Sacrificed During a Violet Moon
by Aymerysage
Summary: 1x2, AU. Duo, ever since he was a little baby, never knew his family. He was left to an orphanage in the city without anything but the clothes he wore and the necklace around his neck, something that speaks of his mysterious and painful past. Yet, when
1. Sworn Child

**Sacrificed During a Violet Moon**

**Description:** Duo's POV, except for beginning part. Duo, ever since he was a little baby, never knew his family. He was left to an orphanage in the city without anything but the clothes he wore and the necklace around his neck, something that speaks of his mysterious and painful past. Yet, when after almost 18 years of his life he has to return back home, he never expected it to be a repetition of things he never remembered in the first place of when he was just a baby, chosen as the sacrifice of the violet moon and a past come back to haunt him.

**Pairing's: **1+2/1x2 (if you haven't noticed I abhor 2x1 and you will never see me with anything relating to it, sorry to all those fans who do, my best friend for example), 3+4/possibly 3x4 (I most likely won't, since I believe that their relationship works best if subtle hints are dropped from the sky), 13+6+5/possibly 13x6x5 in future, 13x5 mention in past but 6x5 in past (this has become my most favorite paring next to 1x2). As I am on Fanfiction all MA material will be on my website in livejournal.

**Rating:** AU, Yaoi, in the beginning it is rated pg13, rated R later, servitude, seducing of the obscured devil and a sacrifice for power. So if you don't agree with these terms then I don't know why the hell you're here. Ok have fun.

**Warning:** If you don't know by now listen carefully: Men with Men…having sex or liking/loving the same sex!

**Disclaimer:** I don't own any of the character's or their personality's (all though I could play a good Duo) any way, you've heard it all so I'll just fast forward. Bla…bla…bla, bla, bla, blabber, blue…beluga. Ok you all get it. NO suing, have no money, saving every penny for the anime convention and birthday's. Not worth your time.

**A/N!**: Ok, this story started out the way it did because I had watched a movie where this guy had been summoned by a cult to kill this witch. So that's how the story started. Then I watched Hill House, that's where I got the idea for it being in a castle. Finally, I had a dream which shaped the story into what I have now. The red wing, being this mysterious place where Heero was sacrificed yada yada. Can't give a way too much. Just thought I'd mention that things do come from dreams ya know.

Chap 1: Sworn Child

"_In the red house sinking down into ground rot, a lamp at one window, the smarled ashes letting a single flame go free, a shoe of dreaming iron nailed to the wall, two mismatched halfnesses lying side by side in the darkness, I can feel with my hand the foetus rouse himself with a huge, fishy thrash, and resettle in his darkness."_

"Our lord Lucifer, come to us and grant your powers upon us. May our wishes be fulfilled and that the world trembles before your allegiances of followers. We present to you our gift, your sacrifice. Blood of a pure light……a witch not of seven violet moons. He will give you your dominance over this pitiful world……so may it be." Fingers as pallid as death crept beneath fabric of the darkest pitch and pulled forth a dagger, its length dominating most of the covered forearm. The cloaked figure pulled the dagger over its head, words of praise and agreement floating all around him, creating a whirlwind of noise.

"I give you your chosen one! Let the power and strength promised by this child of seven violet moons be shined upon us! We invoke you! Come before us gracious one and take him!" his voice, deep and resounding echoed off red stone walls creating a barrier of untouched sound, bringing forth a Prussian wisp of intense light that settled around the small child lying asleep on a slab of flattened rock.

"Gracious one…...lord Lucifer take what is rightfully yours by birth!" the dagger hesitating for only a fraction of a second before it started to plunge down toward the slumbering child's heart. But before it could even fall half the way a deafening shout echoed throughout the cavern.

"Don't touch that child! I swear you will regret ever opening your eyes this morn." A young female voice, enraged and full of hatred, spoke firmly. Turning about the black robed followers all mumbled words of outrage and blasphemy, but stalled when the daggered hand lifted.

"Why are you still living wench? I thought I disposed of you already." malice dripped from the greasy voice, the followers whispering among themselves as their leader and the stranger faced off. None of them noticing the cobalt mist multiplying and deepening to a darker shade of anger, which surrounded the awakening infant.

"Well, it seems you underestimated a witch, especially one very pissed off witch. You have my son, and I will destroy any who stand in my way in the return of him." Her voice tense with anxiety started a chant, Latin words melting together in a sea of idioms filling the air with a booming forthcoming of calamity. The followers fell back, eyes gone wide beneath darkened hoods, mouths hanging open as they watched the Wicca and their leader.

"You will not deny our lord his reign, white light. He will triumph and take the child that's rightfully his."

The woman slowed her chant, cobalt eyes opening, fury clearly written there. "My child……is mine own, no one else's. I do not care if his birth falls on your malicious lords awakening. His fate is to destroy your kind and I will stop at nothing to make sure his destiny is fulfilled!"

"No! Lucifer will take the child." Dagger raised once more he turned around to the mist covered baby who was giggling playfully as the blue haze circled and teased him and readied himself to thrust it down one more time for the final blow. But before he could so much as move a finger the witch's spell was set into place and he cried out in anguish as he was engulfed by a burning inferno.

As soon as the ashes hit the ground the woman sent the gathered followers away from the stone slab with a frantic sway of her hand, each hitting either wall or floor. Quickly she grabbed the child, giving the surrounding cloud of blue only a second thought before running from the lighted cave. Her footsteps reverberated against the walls, as she twisted through the many tunnels to the supposed exit. All she had to do was get far enough away, and save her only true hope.

Faint light emerged from ahead of her and she smiled weakly as she materialized from the underground. The harvest moon, purple light having bleed its way down the middle, was high in the sky lighting the trail from the entrance to the path, which led into the woods and straight to the town.

"Don't worry little one, you will be safe now. Even if it's not by my side." As the last syllable was spoken she vanished in blinding silver light, the baby not even making a sound.

One of the blacked robbed figures stood up from the ground a snarl on his face as he rounded the residue on the floor that was once his great leader. Glancing back up at the slab where once there sacrifice laid he picked up the dagger, its slim continence gleaming off of the abandoned vapor of their lord. He could feel its confusion, its anger over the missing sacrifice and most of all its hatred at being ignored.

"Don't worry m'lord. He will be yours. The next Violet moon will come in eighteen years. Then you will have your reign as you were meant to."


	2. Telford

**Sacrificed During a Violet Moon**

**Description:** Duo's POV, except for beginning part. Duo, ever since he was a little baby, never knew his family. He was left to an orphanage in the city without anything but the clothes he wore and the necklace around his neck, something that speaks of his mysterious and painful past. Yet, when after almost 18 years of his life he has to return back home, he never expected it to be a repetition of things he never remembered in the first place of when he was just a baby, chosen as the sacrifice of the violet moon and a past come back to haunt him.

**Pairing's: **1+2/1x2 (if you haven't noticed I abhor 2x1 and you will never see me with anything relating to it, sorry to all those fans who do, my best friend for example), 3+4/possibly 3x4 (I most likely won't, since I believe that their relationship works best if subtle hints are dropped from the sky), 13+6+5/possibly 13x6x5 in future, 13x5 mention in past but 6x5 in past (this has become my most favorite paring next to 1x2). As I am on Fanfiction all MA material will be on my website in livejournal.

Chap 2: Telford

"_Her hair glowing in the firelight, her breast full, her belly swollen, a sunset of firelight wavering all down one side, my wife sleeps on, happy, far away, in some other, newly opened room of the world."_

Her words resounded through me. My stepmother was a lovely woman, I could have never asked for a more generous guardian. It was her favorite poem; something she had always recited to me every night. The Call Across The Valley of Not-Knowing by Galway Kinnell.

When is it, when life seems to echo and repeat until you're back at the sickening beginning? When the beaten path ends……forks off in two directions. One to insanity, where only your thoughts, your feelings and your heartbeat exist…… The second where you just start all over……never knowing when you're going to fall. Why, I ask myself, as I watch a familiar landscape pass by me. One I've seen, if not a million times before, in my mind and every time it appears, I feel more and more alone. A cold and shivering child, without a home, without a family……without a past…… That's me……my life fits in one sad sentence.

I let my eyes coast over the horizon, it bleeds, like my soul……like my heart. The colors blend together into colors that I've only dreamt of and used in my paintings. Violet, ginger, golden, and azure……all too pure, all too real, unlike the earth, which it paints…… The passing scenery seems dead, trees gone black over the centuries that they have stood. Leaves, falling dead to the ground, littering the forest were dying and its foliage could no longer hold on.

I vaguely remember them. Those trees…… So long ago that its memory seems false, implanted there for only me to view and left wondering. The train moves too fast to really look, although the urge to pull the flimsy string above my head to stop the bulleting train is great, I will not. Time will not stop for me so that I can selfishly try to find a clue……anything that answers such a simple question……who am I? Who were the ones who brought me into this world? Why was I left……alone?

"Excuse me sir, but your stop is coming up." A soft, almost too sincere and gentle voice alerts me to another presence. I look up and see the conductor, an old gentlemen wearing a traditional blue suit and hat. He smiles a knowing smile. One that I've memorized from the people around me. Everyone smiles like that……like they know, like they have always known. But they don't.

"Thank you." I return back to the window, letting the frigid glass cool my heated skin. My heart was beating fast, too fast. I wasn't ready for this, for this knowledge. I thought I had closed this chapter of my life for good, yet it seemed to haunt me, even in my dreams. My heart beat vibrated through my blood, creating tremors in my limbs, a headache and numerous faults that I couldn't conceive at the moment. Soon I would be there, soon I would face it……my home.

The train whistled, shrilled, shrieking out its call to passengers, telling them that it was about to stop, resounding through the quiet and almost empty car. A man, in his early sixties, late fifties at least, and a young women with a boy of seven hanging onto her were the only other travelers. The boy, who I had taken to staring at frequently through the trip, was handsome, strapping, and I knew he would be a head turner once he grew up. Every girl in the county would hang onto him, demanding his attention. Blonde hair, soft baby blues, the ideal heartbreaker, almost too nauseatingly stereotypical, yet the mother, who barely spoke more then ten words throughout the entire trip, looked almost, if not exactly like him.

I can't help but wonder where the father is, and why they are on a train going to some distant part of the world where barely anything happens. And I just have an urge to walk up to the pair and ask if they felt pain, if they knew what it really was? But I didn't and I won't, because I can tell by the eager eyes of the young boy that he doesn't know much grief and that where ever they are heading, it's not boring……its not scary, unlike my own destination.

"Telford, sixth stop." Sighing profoundly I stood from my flat and uncomfortable seat. Grabbing my beat up old black backpack and a matching suitcase of the same or poorer quality, I made my way off the rickety train. Heh, I wasn't rich. Never knew the taste of money, although I once had a $20 bill in my pocket for more then a day. Saved it for over five months until I had to use it in order to save my hide.

Stepping onto the almost vacant platform, I noticed that the entire train and station were of the same worth, very, very poor. Suddenly I felt at home.

"Excuse me, are ya Duo Maxwell?" I turned around upon hearing the gentle call. Sure enough there was a middle aged woman staring back at me, round chocolate-brown eyes watching intently, waiting for an answer. Numbly I nodded my head, the long braided mass of auburn hair swishing against my backside as I did. "Well, just my luck. I figured I'd have to look all over 'de place for you."

I smiled tersely, the idea that she couldn't find me in a place like Telford was excruciatingly funny. But then again, I find everything humorous, even a sleeping dog. God only knows. Unconsciously I grabbed hold of the pendant dangling from my neck, its natural heat, warming my fingertips, bringing with it a strange sort of comfort. The ladies eyes narrowed upon the moving of my hand towards my neck, and widened only slightly at the necklace.

"Where did ya get 'dat?" I looked down, bringing the object of sudden scrutiny forward uneasily. It was something I usually forgot was about my neck. Like it was an appendage that somehow mystified me into believing it wasn't there. The damn thing always got me into trouble to. The pendant was the only thing on me that looked worth stealing and I had a hard time trying to keep greedy paws off of it.

"Oh, this, um……it's nothing really. Family heirloom I guess. Any hoot, where will I be staying again, Mrs. Argo, right?" The pleasantly plump woman nodded enthusiastically before motioning for me to follow.

The streets of Telford were still strangely, cobble stone. Although, in some places, parts of it were filled in with new, bright red bricks, it still held an air of the 15th century about it. For the life of me I could not remember why this place meant so much. I had been given a picture by the nuns who had taken care of me of when my mother was still pregnant with me and the place just looked so wonderful in the photos. 'Maybe this was just time come a knocking,' I thought sharply as I was led down narrow streets filled with beat up cars and horses. More horses then cars it seemed but, this was a working and secluded village so I wasn't too worried about the lack of the 21st civilization being present.

I suddenly paused turning to look across the street at a car that seemed just too out of place in shabby old Telford. It was a sleek navy blue mustang GT, its undamaged and pristine condition creating what seemed like technology gone awry on such an old and ancient street.

"Um, whose car is that?" I whispered, hoping the lady had not heard my words, but before I could move on and forget the stunning piece of metal on wheels she spoke carefully, not even bothering to turn around.

"'Dat would be old Mr. Callaway's son's car. 'E runs this 'ear town. Such a nice boy 'e is. Rather fond of his demeanor an' the way 'e treats a lady as well." I looked back over at the car briefly before walking along, hoping I didn't have to meet this, Mr. Callaway's son. He just didn't ring right and I know all about ringing. Heck, everybody back home says I'm nuts and should seek mental health. Not like I wouldn't consider it. Yeah they lock you up and give you happy slappy drugs, but you got a bed, warmth, food and the occasional fun. The only thing wrong with this plan was that I wasn't nuts, crazy, wacko, or even the little bit kooky. Okay, alright, you got me; I'm most of those, but all in a sane way. "Um, 'ello, are ya'll right. Been trying to get your attention an' ya left 'de building."

"Sorry, what did you say?"

"I said 'dat be it up there on the hillside. Wonderful lookin place, but you don't ever see me there. You folks always lookin for adventure. Hope your stay isn't……to long." With that she walked away, head down and hands fiddling with the hem on her egg shell colored shirt.

"You people are weird." I abruptly turned around and examined my home for the remainder of my stay at Telford. It was the only place that had vacancies at this time of year since folk from the cities seemed to enjoy Telford's unique calm and beauty, only found out in the country. So, since I was to slothful to get my butt out of bed and go to the travel agency on time, I was stuck with old Lowe Manor. It was actually a hotel slash horror house, so to speak. People reside in the rather large manor home and take tours throughout their stay on all the spooky things it has to offer. 'Like outdoor plumping……most likely,' sighing I slung my duffel onto my shoulder with my backpack and trudged up the rocky path.

The travel agent said that Lowe manor wasn't just a closeted thrill seekers paradise where city folk let go of inhibitions and tour the haunted money maker, but a beauty that had survived over hundreds and hundreds of years. It was built at least two miles from town, surrounded by a forest and built into a cliff. 'Defense was a very big thing back then and by building it in its exact location it was never breached.' But I knew better. Anything can be breached if you put your mind to it, and I told my mystified elderly travel women that to her face breaking the eerily mystical moment she created.

Trees……trees, trees, and more trees. Yep, that was basically all there was……on the left and on the right. Even in front and back. It was like being surrounded, suffocated, albeit the narrow path weaved in and out, snake like through and through. "Are we almost there yet?" I whined quietly to myself, feet already tired from all the traveling I had done previously.

"This place better have hot water and a big bed or they are not going to like the consequences." Another seven minutes later, and I could just see the tip of one of the towers peeking over the tall evergreens. "Oh thank god! Need to rest."

Hurrying as fast as I could towards the manor, knowing fully well that I would skip the tour and head straight to the relaxing. Who needs a group tour anyway? It will probably be full of old couples asking a million questions holding up the group until you've spent so much time on one thing and can't stand to even think about the next destination. Hey, don't laugh, cause it's true. That's why I don't go to museums with only tours. The guides want you to interact and they'll ask you questions and basically suck all the fun out of it.

I burst through the forest and met with two solid ebony gates surrounded by two gatehouses where guards most likely sat during their duties late in the day. Their aged designs akin to vines twisting and wriggling in a mass orgy of movement and in the middle were the letters L and M. "Ok, creepy gate…I can get used to that." But then I focused beyond the gate to my new home for the next couple of weeks and decided…my heart had truly skipped a beat. The architecture was truly amazing and truly frightening. Manor was in fact not really a manor at all. Well, at least not any manor I thought it would look like. Weathered stones inlaid upon each turret and tier and there were millions of them, so many I didn't dare count. Windowpanes handcrafted delicately with precious gold metal segmented each design. It was truly hard to describe the place…but it put most castles…and or manors, I've ever seen in pictures to shame. But the centerpiece…the one thing that seemed almost out of place…was the gold clock set at the highest tower. It's numerals glinting in the sun.

Sighing I moved towards the gates hesitantly fingering the lock on the inside. "Hello! Is anyone there?" Waiting a second for an answer and getting none, I huffed and dropped my luggage, prowling about the monstrosities for another entrance. "Well, punctuality isn't one of their strong suits." I went over to the stone wall connected to the gatehouse and prodded it testingly. There were little holes and cracks that I could easily stick my foot into so I could climb over the forsaken wall. I could get someone and bring them back so I could get my luggage.

Getting ready to leaver my foot up, a voice behind me startled me out of my mission. "What are you doing?"

Cranking my head about, I met with a pair of bemused aquamarine eyes and a feathery blonde head. "Uh, climbing?"

"I see that, but why?" The man behind me cocked his head, appearing to be waiting for the answer.

"Well, no one answered the gate, so I thought I would just hop over and…get someone?" 'Way to go idiot…' I thought angrily as the blonde man smirked delicately at me.

"Well, I don't know about climbing but the caretaker usually comes down to the gate every half hour when guests are expected. So that would mean that someone should be here soon." The other man stopped quickly, looked down at his 'really expensive Rolex!' and then back up at me, nodding as if affirming his story. "Don't you believe me? Or do you just like hanging onto walls like a monkey?"

I blushed and quickly scrambled down the moss and dust caked wall, rubbing my now extremely dirty hands on my pants. "Hi, I'm Duo Maxwell. You are?"

"Quatre Winner, pleased to meet you." We shook hands, my cheeks pinking when I realized how dirty my hands must have still been, while Rich Price opposite me was a picture of perfection.

"Sorry, I'm getting dirt on you."

"It's all right. It's why I come here. To get away from cleanliness…and constant bickering from those who think I can't take care of myself." Quatre smiled pleasantly, eyes focused on the manor behind me. "So…why are you here. I'm sure I've never seen you before."

"What, you don't get many newcomers to this place?" I walked back over to my luggage and took a seat, body sore from the long trek to stand any longer. There was nothing in there for me to crush anyway. "Wait, why are you still waiting out here then?"

Quatre blushed and looked down, "I just got here a little earlier then I was expecting and well, here I wait. Not that I mind." Quatre also went over to his luggage, which to my astonishment could have been at least three times what my wardrobe consisted of. "And well, they don't really receive that many new faces. Usually it's only myself and a couple other people who use this place as retreat from their daily lives."

Well, seems my travel agent exaggerated a bit. "How long do you stay here?"

Quatre looked back at me, eyebrows reaching his hairline. "Oh, um, quite awhile actually."

Our conversation was cut short when a gruff hello was issued from behind the twin gates to hell. I turned about and did a double take at who stood there. The man was slight, with black hair and Asian features. His eyes were slanted, wary… I couldn't help but grin mentally, 'well, at least we have something good about this place.'

"Why hello to you to Wufei. It's nice to see you again." Quatre went up to the man and smiled angelically through the gates. Somehow, I knew it wasn't something the blonde man did for just everyone.

"As for you as well Mr. Winner." Wufei went about unlocking the gates, expression still like marble.

"How many times must I tell you its Quatre. Only my associates call me that and you are far from being one of those stuffy old geezers. Or are you?" Wufei blinked for a second before returning back to his impression of a tree. Which I might add, he did very well.

"Very well sir…Quatre." Wufei let the large gates swing open, heading straight passed me to get to Quatre's extravagant and extremely large collection of suitcases. Me and my one suitcase, aka a beat up duffel and back pack were feeling a bit…small.

"Oh and Wufei, we have a new guest with us." Quatre smiled at me and trudged on ahead, his small hands wrapped around two hefty cases. Sighing, I was about to head along with my new acquaintance when I felt a strong hand grab my shoulder; turning me to face the man Quatre had called Wufei. From up close, one could definitely see an obvious quality of stubbornness and frequent stress in the Asian man or boy. He could have been teetering on 18 or 19 like myself.

"Yes?" Generally I broke anyone's hand that strayed to close to my neck, habit I guess, but this one didn't seem like the type to try anything funny.

"Mr. Maxwell?"

"Yes…" His hand relaxed and shortly fell away slowly from my person, black beady eyes still attached to my own.

"Follow me…don't get lost." With that Wufei trudged ahead. Arms straining with the four suitcases he held. Poor thing. Must get a lot of that, and here I am with one free hand…

Running ahead, I met up with him. "Hey, can I help you with one of those. You know, me having a free and helping hand and all…?" The other stopped and stared at me, his eyes drilling into my own. It was actually quite unnerving…

"Fine…" I quickly took one from him. This was great; I could make two friends in one day while I was here. "If you drop it, you pay for whatever's broken or what needs to be cleaned of Mr. Win…Quatre's things." Wufei went ahead, one of the salmon and white suitcases held in my grasp.

Ok, so maybe just one friend.

A/N: Alright jess-eklom I've fixed the chapter up. Thanks again for telling me about the Lowe Manor things.


	3. Lowe Manor

**Sacrificed During a Violet Moon**

**Description:** Duo's POV, except for beginning part. Duo, ever since he was a little baby, never knew his family. He was left to an orphanage in the city without anything but the clothes he wore and the necklace around his neck, something that speaks of his mysterious and painful past. Yet, when after almost 18 years of his life he has to return back home, he never expected it to be a repetition of things he never remembered in the first place of when he was just a baby, chosen as the sacrifice of the violet moon and a past come back to haunt him.

**Pairing's: **1+2/1x2 (if you haven't noticed I abhor 2x1 and you will never see me with anything relating to it, sorry to all those fans who do, my best friend for example), 3+4/possibly 3x4 (I most likely won't, since I believe that their relationship works best if subtle hints are dropped from the sky), 13+6+5/possibly 13x6x5 in future, 13x5 mention in past but 6x5 in past (this has become my most favorite paring next to 1x2). As I am on Fanfiction all MA material will be on my website in livejournal.

Chap 3: Lowe Manor

"_Sweat breaking from his temples, Aristophanes ran off at the mouth—made it all up, nightmared it all up on the spur of that moment which has stabbed us ever since: that each of us is a torn half whose lost other we keep seeking across time until we die, or give up—or actually find her:"_

"This will be your room. Supper's at 6:00 and our Manor Guide will after that give you a brief tour of the place. You know, so you don't get lost." Wide eyed, I took in the room…what was her name...oh yeah Hilde, brought me to. It was huge! I had my own fireplace and living area as well as a very…large bed adorned with purple and black sheets, hidden away behind billowy lavender drapes. Colossal stain glassed windows reached the ceiling, painting the marble ground in a myriad of colors from the broken glass. A mahogany desk set on the far wall under these windows, and right next to a balcony, which were swathed in deep wine colored gossamer curtains. And here I thought the massive door; at least a hands width thick and tall enough for a giant to fit through was amazing enough. As well as the fun house halls of black stone, mirrors around every turn and gold intricate designs I wouldn't even had the patients to make.

"Wow…" setting down my luggage I circled the place, touching anything and everything I could get my hands on. I really had to wonder why no one wanted to go to this place. Why it was a last resort… Laughing childishly I vaulted upon the big bed, bouncing slightly while I stared at the ceiling. The four poster hid most of it but I could distinctly see from my vantage point near the edge a mesmerizing circular motion, which ended in a large round lavender circle. "Wow…"

"You've said that already." A feminine giggle reverberated around in the vaulted room. Duo sat up and stared at the short haired girl. "I haven't told you my name yet or have I…oh well repeating it wont harm you, it's Hilde, and I'm the maid in charge of this corridor. None of the other girls like it down here, but I do." She stated bravely, puffing out her bosom while tossing back non-existing curls. To bad I wasn't interested; she sure was a cute one. "You know, I've never seen eyes like yours before. They kind of match…um, never mind." I looked at her oddly for a second and dismissed her rambling before she decided to continue.

"They say that this side of the building is haunted, but their just old biddies who can't stop gossiping. Me, I'm the brave one. When they heard that the White wing was full and that management hadn't finished renovating the blue wing, that we had to clean up a violet room, they freaked. It was quite amusing."

"You name your wings by color?" Well that was new. The only time he ever heard that being done was during his English class when they were reading the Phantom of the Red Death, or something like that.

"Yep. The owner was very weird. When he built the place he didn't want some boring old names for each wing he wanted them color coded. The White wing was for the extinguished guests, such as local dukes and earls. That's where Quatre Winner is obviously, such a nice young man though. The Green wing was for the staff such as the maids and stuff, it's smaller, the room sizes and stuff. The Brown wing is also staff, but for the cooks, and grounds keepers cause it's closer to ground level. There quant little places, that's where I live…right in between the two. But anyhoot… There's also the Pink Wing, but there is only one person that ever stays there, and that's Miss Relena. She rented the entire thing. She thinks she's the queen of the entire world. No one likes to stay there any way. It was built for the owner's mistresses and wife. God awful place. Dorothy is in charge of that wing. She's nice, but don't talk to her. She's very…um…closed up." I watched as she took a deep breath and plopped down on the black sofa. She sure did talk a lot. Could even rival me.

"Now, there's also the Blue wing, which was for the master of the house and his son's rooms. Can you imagine two people living in one entire wing? I have seen those rooms a couple of times…there huge. The Black wing was supposedly very marvelous but it was destroyed in a fire, so they kind of mixed the black and purple wing together, which is where you are. They say that the son of the first master of this place was murdered in this wing. That they found his blood covering the halls, but no body was found, except for one piece of evidence." At this part she paused and leaned forward, whispering, "his lover."

Blinking, I also leaned forward, scrambling to the edge of the bed, so I could better hear her. "Yeah…what happened then?"

"Well, don't tell anyone I told you. They like to tell their new guests during the tour of the house, but, downstairs…the basement if you will…" she stood and pointed down, "Is the Red wing. That was where the master did all his, 'illegal' dealings. We're not allowed down there, but I heard from some of the older maids, that the walls are colored like blood, and that there is, when you go down, a large circular room, with patted red walls and shiny red floors…like a lobby of sorts. They said that the room looked like it was 'bathed' in blood. They found the body there in one of the rooms. It was hung, massacred…like a sacrifice. No one can go down there, not even the manager, unless he gets a go ahead from the owner."

I stared at her, eyes, wide… "What happened to the…lover?"

"Oh, he was killed…they thought he did it. Thought him a witch…how ridiculous. But I don't believe that. People say that the son loved…him…very much and that his lover couldn't stay away from his side. These were his rooms, sort of, by the way. Creepy huh?"

"He was, male?" I couldn't believe this… It was such an exhilarating story I completely skipped the part when she said these were the sons lovers rooms…for a moment.

"Yep, from what I heard he was a looker, well the both of them were in any case." She stood up and walked over to another set of doors. "This is your bathroom. I will bring you clean towels every morning and fresh sheets for your bed." She then walked away from the open doors and came back to the bed. "Now, like I said, don't tell them you already know about the room. And don't go down there to the red wing. They make a customer pay a lot more…you know, cash. Sorry to say this but you don't look like you could afford it." With that she stood up and went to the door. "See you in about an hour for dinner."

Stunned, I sat completely still on the edge of the bed. I couldn't believe a place like this could have a story so controversial. Then again, the girl did say the maids gossiped and when one gossips there are always alterations to stories. Exhibit A: Folk Tales and Tall Tales.

"Well, time to explore my rooms." I bounced over to the bathroom, which Hilde had opened before and gapped at the expanse of black, white and lilac décor. On the right was a pale marble counter with a copper sink sunk in the middle and a large glass mirror, ornate and beautifully decorated with gems. I'm sure they were fake. But it sure did look real enough. To my left was a rather expensive looking bath set up on a dais. It was covered in the same gauze around my bed, giving it a look that only one could dream up in a medieval romance novel.

There were candles strewn about the edge of the tub, wax rings settled into the stone. Pictures were placed upon the walls depicting landscapes of wintry mountains and valleys. "Huh. Nice. I can't believe I got this place for what I paid." Back outside I looked through my bag, ready to unpack but not really in a hurry to stuff everything into a drawer. Instead I pulled out a new black button up shirt and shed my old dusty one.

"Alright it is, 5:35. I have time to get to the dinning room…if I can find it…with time to spare." I walked over to the mirror in the bathroom again, in order to fix a few strains that had escaped my braid and then skipped to the door.

I spent at least 10 minutes walking around, trying to find a familiar hallway that would lead me to the dinning room with out luck. I found the Pink wing and the White wing; before making it to the recognizable hallway Hilde had led me down to get to my room. "Geez, where is everyone?" Sighing I ran a hand through my disheveled bangs. I would have to take a bath later and wash away my travels.

"Let's see, I passed the White and Pink hallways." God awful place that Pink Wing. The Master of Lowe Manor must have had very strange mistresses to want an all pink corridor made for them. "So, Hilde took me past these and past the Blue…" I paused, just as I entered the alcove that led to the Blue wing. I hadn't noticed it before, but there was a picture of a young man. Possibly 19 or 20 years old. I went over, not sure why, and reached out to touch the strong brow almost covered by lengthy and messy bangs.

"Oh, there you are. I knew you would get lost." I snatched my hand away as if burned by the aged oils and canvas.

"Quatre?" The blonde boy smirked at me in return, eyes narrowing oddly.

"What were you doing?"

"Ah…nothing?" I shrugged and walked away from the painting. Quatre nodded, eyes darting between me and the canvas.

"You like it? That's Sir Heero Shea Hisoka Yuy Lowe. The son of Sir Lowe Sr." Quatre smiled devilishly as he approached the painting. "I'm sure you've already heard something about him already…these maids never stop talking. About his death?" He reached up and also touched the same spot I had previously done. Fingers trailing down the stony face. "They don't know the half of it though. They did indeed find his body in the Red wing, sacrificed while his lover was prosecuted and murdered for it, but what these little ladies failed to tell you was that it all happened on the night of a Violet Moon, and that it was all planned. Intrigues are so much more interesting back in the day."

Things just could not stop getting weirder could they? I came to this town in search of my past and I come and find someone else's. Plus, I thought Quatre and I could become acquainted during my stay, but the dude was kind of freaky. But I never try to judge people on the outside…or in. "Really?"

"Oh don't worry. The Purple wing is perfectly safe. They would never have opened it to you if it wasn't. Plus, you'd have paid more money for the Blue rooms anyhow. So lets just say that the Violet wing comes with a discount." Quatre turned from the painting and came back to my side. "Now come, you must be famished."

Quatre lead me away from the painting, its secrets and deep blue eyes.


	4. Infatuation

**Sacrificed During a Violet Moon**

**Description:** Duo's POV, except for beginning part. Duo, ever since he was a little baby, never knew his family. He was left to an orphanage in the city without anything but the clothes he wore and the necklace around his neck, something that speaks of his mysterious and painful past. Yet, when after almost 18 years of his life he has to return back home, he never expected it to be a repetition of things he never remembered in the first place of when he was just a baby, chosen as the sacrifice of the violet moon and a past come back to haunt him.

**Pairing's: **1+2/1x2 (if you haven't noticed I abhor 2x1 and you will never see me with anything relating to it, sorry to all those fans who do, my best friend for example), 3+4/possibly 3x4 (I most likely won't, since I believe that their relationship works best if subtle hints are dropped from the sky), 13+6+5/possibly 13x6x5 in future, 13x5 mention in past but 6x5 in past (this has become my most favorite paring next to 1x2). As I am on Fanfiction all MA material will be on my website in livejournal.

Chap 4: Infatuation

"_As I myself, in an Ozark Airlines DC-6 droning over towns made of crossroads, headed down into Waterloo, Iowa, actually found her, held her face a few hours in my hands; and for reasons—cowardice, loyalties, all which goes by the name "necessity"—left her…"_

From what I could see there were nine other guests besides myself. Quatre, who happened to be a rather wealthy young man (like I didn't see that coming?). A Ms. Relena Darlian, who had connections all over the world through her daddy's political money. She was the one who had rented out the Pink wing and I could see why from her appearance.

A light pink blouse with an almost shockingly hot pink skirt, which hugged her little girl thighs, almost like spandex…god I hoped not. A pair of sparkling, most likely diamond, earring studs, a (yep you guessed it) small elegant diamond ring set in a slender gold band and a string of tiny pearls about her almost too swan like neck. She could have been a pretty girl to me, if she didn't wear so much pink or flaunted her money like it was perfume.

She was definitely daddies little princess. Blonde hair, blue eyes, makeup piled on like cement and white stiletto heels, completed the entire bimbo stereotype to a T. It was almost hard to look at her.

There was a lovely elderly couple, Mr. Elbert and Louisa Donovan, who, like most, used canes and told their bland life stories to anyone who said hello. Then there was a young couple, an Amy Rusp and a David House, whose hands didn't stray to far from each others bodies. Sick really…

I didn't take the time to get to know these four, since any time you asked them anything the elderly couple went off on a tangent about how they met, while the two love birds just stared deep into each others eyes and smiled sickly sweetly.

The last three were by far what attracted my attention the most. When you look at people and see a label, you generally judge them accordingly. There were two men and one woman. Nothing about them seemed extraordinarily noteworthy, so I guess you could call them average looking people. The woman and one of the men were either related or married, I couldn't tell which. Mr. Will and Mrs. or Ms. Adriana Gray. The other man with them, Daniel Ash, was by far the most social of the three. His happy go lucky demeanor, in case you wouldn't notice later, attracted mine almost instantly. He was only a few years older then myself, but younger then the other two.

Once Quatre and I made it into the dining room and had taken our seats we all introduced ourselves formally, which was where I had lost interest in most of the guests, except Quatre and Daniel. What can I say; I have an attention span of a kitten. What I did find really creepy though was when it was my turn to state my name, average joe and his…lady gray friend looked at me, oddly. You know, like when one happens to see a dancing bear in a tutu. Not that many people do see a dancing bear in a tutu but when you do it's given a pause of consideration.

The rest of the evening went a lot smoother. Daniel, Quatre and I basically spent the meal talking about stupid everyday things; you know like, who thought up the color of money or what color the sky is. We even stuck in a few phrases about sex. Hey were randy young men, I'd like you to go through a day without thinking about it.

All in all though, I wasn't expecting to have such a good time. Of course there were those few who kept their sour puss faces intact the entire evening, which were basically one Ms. Relena Darlian and the gray twins.

"Hey, Quatre, why does this girl…well…" I really couldn't figure out a nice way of saying it.

"Why the hell is a she devil doing staying in this ancient tomb?" Daniel smirked cheekily under his spiked black hair.

"Yeah…" Quatre seemed to think this over for a bit, placing his fork down, eyebrows kitted in contemplation.

"Well, you see, from what I've gathered she has been coming here because she is infatuated with the place ever since she was a child. For the past five years she's been trying to buy the property but the owner won't budge. So she just comes whenever she feels like it and pretends that it's hers. She's basically bought the entire Pink wing so that no one else can ever use it."

Blinking I watched the girl on the opposite side of the table slice her potato in half. "Sheesh, talk about Princess Syndrome." Daniel pointed out through a mouthful of roast.

"So wait, who does own this place and why keep it if some rich kid like her wants to buy the entire dig?" I just couldn't fathom how much a place like this could go for. I'm sure the local historical society would love to buy the manor for tourist visits instead of having it as an inn.

"You didn't know? Mr. Callaway, he gave the place to his son to do whatever he liked with it. The thing was that Adrian Callaway was not "rich enough" for Ms. Relena Darlian. She refused him a date so he refused her the house. Fair trade I think." Quatre smiled illicitly through his water glass.

Looking over at Relena, through her straight blonde locks, into her downcast baby blue eyes, there was determination, false purity only a princess of a spoiled and pampered lifestyle could create and anger, a deep plastic anger. Anger that could snap just as easily as melt.

"Why does she want Lowe Manor so much?"

"Because…" Quatre set the glass down and turned to me, aqua eyes glistening with humor, "I believe she has a crush on Sir Heero Yuy Lowe's image…even though he never had a known female partner in his entire 20 years." Beside me Daniel choked on his bread, guawffs of laughter disturbing everyone at the table.

Yes it was going to be a very long but amusing time at Lowe Manor.

There were no TV's, nor radios and only one phone, which was down in the Manor manager's office. This was going to be the suckiest time ever. So basically this was one of the many reasons why many tourists viewed this place as unacceptable, especially for those couples with little rugrats screaming bloody murder every 5 seconds if they weren't played with.

I wasn't exactly sure what to do next, since Telfords main attraction was the manor I didn't have to go far.

Once Quatre and Daniel headed off towards the White wing I ventured on, wandering without reason. Something plagued me still about the manor's history. Something I couldn't put my finger on exactly. There were still so many unfinished questions that Quatre said would be answered tomorrow by our tour guide who had been unexpectedly busy.

What was the Violet moon? Why was Sir Heero Lowe sacrificed? What did his lover look like and why was he suspected of murder?

I looked up and found myself faced to face with the picture of my query. He looked exactly the same since I left him…obviously. 'Pictures don't move Maxwell,' I pinched myself in the hand for my rather stupid thoughts before I sighed and walked up to the picture. The eyes were still entrancing, chips of shattered ice in a river of eternally deep waters. But it was the bangs that enraptured me at the moment. The messy quality was almost, adorable, in an odd; I don't find paintings of dead people attractive, way.

My hand of its own violation reached up, once again that night to touch the bumpy surface of the canvas and its glistening oil paint. I could almost still smell the unique scent oil's give off, but it faded before I could even think briefly on it. But before my hand could even get close enough another hand shot out and gripped mine. It was the second time that day that someone stopped me from admiring this painting. Stopped me from really touching its unique surface. I looked at the acrylic nails, of a delicate shade of brilliant pink, knowing instantly who was there beside me.

"The, gross, oils on your hand will ruin this painting if you touch it." The voice was menacing, there was no doubt about that. Turning I could see a distinct frown on her ladyships face, marring the once serene almost whimsical daddies little girl look from dinner. "So don't touch." She manhandled my hand away, and walked between the painting and myself, like I didn't even exist in her little universe of pink and Lowe manor.

"I know that." I spoke slowly, anger just below the surface of my calm. She couldn't know what I did for a living, no one here does, and I'm going to keep it that way. I'm a very private person about such things as my profession…or lack thereof at the moment.

"If you knew, then I shouldn't have had to stop you." I watched imaginary flames coming from my ears as she reached up with her daggers and swished her lotioned and perfumed hand across the left cheek of Sir Heero. I was close to screaming bloody murder. Her hands didn't magically disinfect themselves. They were as dirty as anybody else's could have been after eating a meal. "I'm sure that Winner and the staff of this moldy old building have been telling you false lies about Sir Heero and I believe it is up to me to set them straight. Heero never had a male lover, he was a virgin his entire life, saving himself for his future bride. A tradition that is carried on through the Lowe line for generations. The man people believed to be his 'lover' was just an apprentice and a murdering witch. Nothing more…" Here she turned hands folding under her bosom and pronouncing the swells just slightly. Making them appear more of a perky pear shaped then apple shaped. For a beautiful lady as she was, I gotta say that she wasn't all that well endowed. But knowing the rich and powerful, inconvenience against their appearance would be eradicated as soon as possible.

"Really. So how many people know the 'truth' as you say it to be. Why do all these people center a business on a lie?" A minuet vein appeared on the pale face, throbbing at the disobedient question.

"Because, their stupid." It was a petulant child act, and with the stance she had adopted it appeared more so. "Now if you'll excuse me, I must have a proper rest." She spun around, something she probably practice down to a T as a teen, since it showed off her long legs, breasts and unbound hair. It would have been sexy for anyone else, but for me it was absolutely nauseating. Why waste such perfectly good time?

She turned right down the pink corridor, pausing only briefly to glance in my direction before continuing on. A spiteful thought jumped up and down in my brain. The evil part of my persona that always made itself present when someone tried to suppress me below them. I could touch the painting all I wanted now, get as much oil as I could possible get on it…but I squashed it with a resounding splat. The painting was too beautiful, the model too handsome and mysterious and the painter wouldn't be pleased to see his work ruined over a humdrum argument.

But, in order to get even, I walked back up to Heero and reached for one strand of hair, believing that I could push it out of the way to see the full face. The oil was smooth, layered on professionally with only a few slight problems. Too many layers couldn't…I pulled my hand back, looking at my fingers. They throbbed, almost as if something had bitten them. It was too dark to tell, but logic would seem that one of the globs of paint could have accidentally been sharp enough to break skin of an unwise trespasser.

I looked up, blinking at the man before me. Eyes taking in the almost glowing eyes. It was definitely getting creepy…I thought laughing nervously as I backed away and continued on my way to my own room. I would get a nice deep sleep and start tomorrows exploring with refreshing new vigor. Maybe I could even explore the Blue wing…

The shadow watched as the boy slowly left, eyes never leaving the slender form until it was out of sight. It could still taste him. He had missed that…so much. How lonely the past centuries had been. Admired as it was, nothing could replace what he had lost.

Nothing…but…maybe now, things could change, finally.

A/N: Now I know Relena may not be that spiteful but we all know that when it comes to Heero Relena is all "He's my man bitch." So I'm sure I've portrayed her…almost accurately.


	5. Varelet

**Sacrificed During a Violet Moon**

**Description:** Duo's POV, except for beginning part. Duo, ever since he was a little baby, never knew his family. He was left to an orphanage in the city without anything but the clothes he wore and the necklace around his neck, something that speaks of his mysterious and painful past. Yet, when after almost 18 years of his life he has to return back home, he never expected it to be a repetition of things he never remembered in the first place of when he was just a baby, chosen as the sacrifice of the violet moon and a past come back to haunt him.

**Pairing's: **1+2/1x2 (if you haven't noticed I abhor 2x1 and you will never see me with anything relating to it, sorry to all those fans who do, my best friend for example), 3+4/possibly 3x4 (I most likely won't, since I believe that their relationship works best if subtle hints are dropped from the sky), 13+6+5/possibly 13x6x5 in future, 13x5 mention in past but 6x5 in past (this has become my most favorite paring next to 1x2). As I am on Fanfiction all MA material will be on my website in livejournal.

Chap 5: Varelet

"_And yet I think it must be the wound, the wound itself, which lets us know and love, which forces us to reach out to our misfit and by a kind of poetry of the soul, accomplish, for a moment, the wholeness the drunk Greek extrapolated from his high or flagellated out of an empty heart,"_

Nothing beats waking up to the smell of fresh rain and thunder. You may think me weird but I love dark and stormy days. I looked out of the large windows at the wet and blurry world outdoors; thinking today was going to be a beautiful day to explore…inside of course. I crawled slowly out of the warm, and many numerous blankets that I had unconsciously pilled on top of myself and swung my legs over the bed side. Just as expected a tiny morning shiver raced up my feet, causing me to pull them up and under myself for the time being. Hard wood floors and Duo Maxwell during the wee morning hours did not mix pleasantly.

I glared at the innocent floor, eyes trying to burn some heat into its chilly surface, but alas I hurriedly scurried from the bed to make a mad dash for the bathroom. A wonderfully warm shower and a clean pair of clothes was all I needed. Plus some breakfast.

Now, I love food. Don't get me wrong here, but I hate breakfast. Something about eating in the morning just turns me off to anything. I have figured out I can have fruit, bacon or sausage, scrambled eggs or omelet occasionally, and corn beef and hash. Wonderful stuff hash. Everything else can be tossed down the shooter.

Casually I meandered down the hallway, mood already brightening as my mind awoke from it's usually grogginess associated with getting up at 8 o'clock in the mornen. I passed by Heero, still looking devilishly handsome and a sudden thought occurred to me…Heero probably hated mornings just as much. Silly, I know, but no one likes getting up. At least I don't think so. I should do a survey one of these days…just to satisfy my curiosity over the matter. I can just see it now. Going up to random people with a grin on my face, still in my pj's and asking them if they like getting out of their warm beds and starting another re-occurring day just like the one before. I'm sure my hypothesis would win though.

During breakfast the usually people were situated at the table, in the exact same order as last night, and get this…still doing exactly the same thing. The only difference was that Relena seemed a little bit disheveled, or at least not as made up as she did during the day. Morning must also not be something she concurred with as well. Plus there was an extra man sitting to the left of her highness, a regal air circulating about his well slicked golden head that made Relena's seem only a tiny drop of water in a vast ocean. This must have been the manager.

He looked up a grin coming over his aristocratic features, "Ah, you must be our newest guest. Mr. Maxwell, I believe." I nodded, fascinated at the man's unique eyebrows, which appeared to have been something of an afterthought when he was put together. "Well, I will give you an abridged tour of the manor. But I'm sure you know mostly everything I could have told you. I must apologize for not meeting with you yesterday, but something came up."

"I don't mind…not at all." I smiled at the man before returning to my cheese omelet and hash with a side of grapes.

When everyone was finished they all dispersed like mice trained to go and find the cheese at the end of the maze. Quatre smiled at me on his way out, while Daniel gave a thumbs up and a tacky good luck grin. Apparently Quatre had secret business to attend too and Daniel…well, he's just in his own little world. I walked over to the manager who introduced himself as Treize. What a funny name, Treize.

"Now, what would you like to see first? Do you have any questions?" We had started to walk towards the pink wing, Relena no where in site.

"No, just the standard tour for now I think. I'm sure I'll be able to figure out a couple questions later."

You can guess what we did next. We went through the pink wing, Treize quickly going over rooms and who had stayed where. Apparently, Lowe Yuy had many mistresses along with his wife. Each had a room in this wing. Plus, here's the kicker, the wife knew and held parties with them on occasion. Talk about a dysfunctional harem.

"Now, during the last year of young Heero's life, Lowe Yuy had set about on finding him a wife. They found a suitable candidate in one Ms. Madeleine Peacecraft. She was about three years younger then him, nothing too major, and he brought her here to this wing to get used to the house. Heero didn't like this, as you can imagine from what everyone has already told you." He paused at one door, simple in an overly elegant way. "This was her room; Ms. Relena Darlian now occupies this suit along with the three conjoining suites on this side of the hall." That didn't surprise me one bit.

After that we moved on out of the overly princess hall. My eyes felt like they were bleeding from all the whites and pale pinks. "Heero, when he heard of this, which was only a day after her arrival had, what you may call a tantrum of sorts. Things got broken, in a nutshell. You're probably wondering when his lover came into play?" I nodded eagerly, ready to get to the good stuff. "Well Heero had met Varelet; this isn't his actual name since we have found no records to trace it to anyone. It must just have been an alias of some kind. But he had met him when Lowe hired on a painter to fashion a portrait of…"

"You mean the one of Heero near the blue wing?" I interrupted him, the story running through me like an electrical charge. I've always loved puzzles. How every piece has a place to fit, you just have to maneuver them into getting there. Yeah so I liked to cut a piece in order to get it into a slot if it's not cooperating but who doesn't?

"Uh, no. That painting, we aren't sure of the artist, some believe it was the old man, but most believe it was his apprentice…Varelet." My mouth must have had that goldfish appeal. You know when you get real close to the tank and their staring at you with their mouths open, mimicking the ones looking in. Yep, that's right. People admire things with their mouths open. Can't be helped so don't even bother trying.

"Now, the artist that Lowe hired painted a portrait of the immediate family, which hangs in the library, if you ever get a chance to go there check out the differences in the two paintings. You'll be hard pressed not to know that two different hands sculpted them. But don't tell Ms. Relena, she'd blow a casket." I laughed, picturing Relena screaming at the painting, telling it to switch makers. What would it do for her psyche if she had been admiring a painting done by a man who killed her beloved…supposedly? "Now the funny thing is Lowe, at the time, was in a verbal war of sorts with the neighboring town lords. Lowe was by far the strongest and owned far more land then most so he considered it his job to take over the position as high lord…or king if you will. Most of the neighboring lords didn't like it but knew that since there was no real higher faction to bestow the peace it was for the best. So, the family portrait was done as a beginning to the royal family of Lowe Yuy. He was considered a king, if you will for about ten years before an up rise occurred not a year after his son's death."

Treize stopped at the blue wing. Heero's benevolent picture still serenely displayed at its entrance. "Now this place isn't all that clean, but we can go in anyway. It's not off limits, but don't get into any trouble like some folk do when shiny items are pushed back from sight." I nodded again, smile still in place as he pushed the two black doors open. The hall was dimly lit, only by the watery windows on both sides of us as we walked down to another door. This led to a much darker hall, which was most likely the bedrooms.

"Lowe's was to your right, it was a much bigger suite as you can imagine and Heero's was to our left." He turned, leaving me no alternative but to follow. He pushed open one of the closest set of doors, which led on into a massive room filled with books, a sitting area placed about a massive brick fireplace, and a desk that was pushed back against the far windows. "This was Heero's study. Probably where he spent most of his time. We have moved all the books that were in this wing into the library in its own personal section, if you care to look." Treize hurriedly walked over to another set of doors to our left that opened up to the bedroom. It appeared to be about the size of my bedroom times three. I think my entire apartment could fit in here. That sucks for me.

The room was entirely Spartan but in a pleasant 15th century way. Meaning it was still pretty dect out. The bed was in the middle of two balconies, seeming to look as if it could fit at least a dozen people comfortably. Blue was an abundant color here obviously with a mixture of pale cream and copper. Many different shades of blue decked the walls, tapestries, rugs and blankets. "I'm sure you're still curious about Varelet, so you can ask away if you like."

"Oh, thanks. Um, ok how about…well, what did he look like?"

Treize laughed, the whole head thrown back in hysteria thing. "Well, you are inquisitive aren't you? Um, that's a hard question to answer. No one really knows, as I've told you, about Varelet. The only things we do know are that he was a brilliant painter, loved by almost everyone in the castle…except Ms. Peacecraft. It is said that during their brief stay together they got into many…hush hush fights. You can imagine how much Varelet paid for these inconveniences. The only reason he was even allowed to continue staying here was because of Heero and his master John Deŕorock. Anyway, as I was saying before, he was loved by everyone. His demeanor was considered even better then any nobles. And there were rumors that have not stopped circulating till this day about his eyes. They were violet." Treize paused, and I could feel his stare boring into me.

So I had violet eyes…well they were more cobalt in my opinion but who cared what I thought anyway. "So…is that everything about Varelet?"

"You're quite into this subject aren't you? Usually people are more into Heero's murder?"

"I thought it wasn't proven that he was murdered by Varelet?" I walked closer to the window, gazing down to the world below. Heero had a magnificent view off the cliff. He could probably have seen for miles.

"Yes, that's true. But he was murdered, that was for certain."

"How do you know?" Ok, I didn't mean for it to come out so…snide but surely he couldn't know…especially since it happened, like what, a gazillion years ago?

"It's true. There's no way of knowing for certain now a days." And he left it at that. Odd. "Come, there's a little more to see."

We exited the room, going back towards the main hall. "I'm going to show you the entrance to the red wing. I'm sure you've already heard rumors about it. I hear that you've got Hilde as a maid, right?" He looked back at me and I hesitantly nodded an agreement. I wasn't sure if agreeing would get the chatty maid fired or me branded in for some in coming trouble.

"Well, then you know not to go down there…right?"

"Um, sorry, but I don't quite understand why people can't go down there. Is it dangerous or something?" I couldn't help but be curious. Exhibit A ladies and gentlemen. You will pay a wholesome price for going down into what appeared a basement where one Heero Yuy was found massacred. Exhibit B…the entire wing was completely red. Why would anyone make a completely red wing? That's just creepy.

"Well, in a matter of speaking yes. The only reason the owner will tell us is that no one needs to go down there. End of discussion."

"Have you been down there?" I couldn't help but wonder.

Treize smiled sadly at me…how odd…and looked again at the two double mahogany doors in front of us. I didn't even realize we had gotten here. "Yes, I have. Once… It was about two, three years ago. One of our visitors decided to take it upon themselves to go visiting. It's dark, cold, and the walls feel as if they are moving in towards you. I couldn't even bare walking down the stairs to get to the main hall. There is no electricity down there, so it's completely dark. Our visitor was all the way down the hall in the room Heero was found in. I don't think I would have risked going down there for anything except my job. They paid the fine but…still managed to weasel themselves back into coming here."

"Boy that sounds a lot like what that Relena girl would do." I snickered thoughtfully at the picture of Relena in her brilliant pink taffeta dress, wandering blood red halls. Visiting a room dank with some poor boys spirit. Hoping beyond hope that he was still there for her to love. Ah what sick devotion. I looked up at Treize. He was smirking down at me as if I had just won a million dollars.

"In fact. Your right…and wrong. On with the rest of the tour then." Well, that was the first time my jaw actually hit a floor. Did she actually go down there? What did he mean by that?

"So how much money do you have to pay for going down there?" What, so sue me. I just wanted to know if I could take out a loan to pay it off or not.

"Lets see. During my many years here, only three people have gone down there to my knowledge. Two paid it off and weaseled there way back here to stay the other went bankrupt and has to pay off their debt by working here… Um…I'd say it's about…" Treize bent down and whispered the rest of the sentence into my ear.

"Oh…so that's a lot of money hmm?" Sarcasm my best friend. And by the way…I'd have to work here for my entire life and then some to pay that off. What can I say; I'm pushing my bank account just by coming here.

"Now, the attic is also off limits only because it's storage. One of the towers is also locked to vistors. The many rooms marked employee only are also off limits. But there's still the library, the garden, main study, lounge, and paths in and around the castle for you to explore as well as over two hundred rooms. Most of our past guests have decided to do these things on their own and at their leisure. So I'll leave you to it. If you get lost, here's a map that we issue all our guests. Have a good day Mr. Maxwell."

"Duo, please. Cliché, yes, but I feel old and stupid when people call me that." I took the map and smiled pleasantly in thanks. This was good; I'm not very adapt at asking for directions. Ha ha, just kidding.

I looked up again and found the man staring down at my neck, eyes narrowed thoughtfully. "Alright…Duo. If you need anything my office is also labeled on the map. Good day."

Well, how strange. I looked down and noticed my necklace had pushed its way out of my shirt. What is it with people and my necklace? Well, what should I do first? Visit the library? No I'll do that later today." I looked down at my watch, deciphering what would be good to do at 9:30 in the morning. "I think I'll go outside." I quickly ran to the nearest window and noted that it was only dewy. "Ok, so it's not raining. I guess I should go check out the gardens and the paths like Treize suggested." With a game plan in mind, I went off down the hall nothing the colors and map that Treize had given me in order to make it safely to the front door.

I quickly followed a path to the right side of the house, in awe of how many flowers were still in bloom and the beauty surrounding such a troubled place. The hastily made path veered in two directions, one going towards the house and the other going away. I chose the one going to the house, figuring that this one would lead me to the gardens. Just to be sure I took out the map, eyes searching the outside parameter but finding nothing. Odd.

Another two minutes later and I arrived at an unusual sight. The gardens were surrounded on all sides by the largest weeping willows I have ever seen in all my life. The castle wall was still situated to my right, windows, from what most likely was the pink wing overlooking the gardens. It seemed the most plausible to me anyway.

The garden was dying; most of the flowers wilting in order to produce their offspring next season. There were benches positioned randomly on the many paths sectioning off different flower beds. "Neat." I breathed, wondering how long it took the gardeners to keep this place as…orderly…as it was. I could see no weeds anywhere. Now there's stamina. I kept walking, wondering if it would produce another path again, when I stumbled upon something…how shell we say. Well, cute for a lack of a better word.

All the way at the end of the garden, opposite from where I had entered, was a roughly made swing hanging off one of the many willows branches. I couldn't help but wonder who it was made for.

As childish as it sounds, I ran over to it and hopped on. I love to swing. It was something I relished. When I was a child at the orphanage there was a tire swing that one of the many hands we had helping to keep the place intact had decided to put up to keep us children busy. The tire, no matter how many times we swung on it, had left grease stains on us. Mother Helen had raged so many times about taking the thing down but in the end she knew it brought us joy. I know what you're thinking. Why didn't you just wash it? Well, water is precious. Water was meant to bath kids and for drinking. Orphanages can't throw money around like it grows on trees for outrages water bills.

I pushed off, relishing in the small amount of wind I produced. I was beginning to really enjoy this place. Maybe I'll even think about making a return trip, I thought pleasantly as I pumped my legs harder. I could almost touch the falling branches with my foot. Soon though, I slowed down, luxuriating in just letting gravity take its toll. As soon as I knew I wouldn't fall off the gradually slowing down swing, I fell back, the tip of my braid skimming the wet grass. From my new point of view I still couldn't see much of the cloudy sky but the willows branches, surrounding me from most of the outside world, it all just looked magical.

Sighing, I brought myself up, noting that the swing had stopped. I got up off the seat and brushed aside a few trailing branches to exit my new world. "Well, let's see what else Lowe manor's grounds have to offer." I went back to the beginning wondering if I'd remember how to leave the hasty labyrinth of paths. I found the crossroads again and chose the one heading away from the manor. I wasn't exactly sure what I'd find, but I knew it wasn't going to be just a twenty minute walk through the park.

Many birds decorated the trees surrounding me, voicing their songs as if debating whose was better. Butterflies zipped to and fro, chasing each other while fly's and other unknown annoyances labeled bugs flew about me…bugging me for all purposes of the word. As I continued my journey into the unknown my thoughts traitorously reverted back to what Treize had told me about the illustrious Lowe Manor. I felt an unknown well of sadness wash over me whenever I heard of Heero's death. To be killed so brutally was just…inhuman. No human in their right mind could do something so heinous without letting the world know at such lengths they went through to do such.

Meaning it couldn't have been Varelet. But in their vengeance they sought the only person who would ever tell them the truth of the matter. "Romeo and Juliet. How their story keeps repeating itself."

I looked around wondering where in the hell this path was taking me, when I noticed something odd. The castle was now in front of me…well the back of the castle was now in front of me. How the hell did I manage that?

I drew forward, looking up towards the rooms I knew to be Heero's and then back down again. The path had stopped, veering off in two different directions. One going closer to the manor and the other going deeper into the woods away from the castle. Seeing as how I didn't feel like getting lost that day I chose the more obvious of the two. The closer I got to the castle the more my head started to pound. Odd that. It never happened before. Right between the eyes too, such a bad spot.

The path finally ended, stopping just short of a tree, which seemed to have over grown about whatever it was the path was leading too. I walked closer, peering about the tree in the hope to satiate my curiosity. The path was leading to something and I wanted to know what. I went to the right of the tree between the trunk and the stone wall. Gasping…very girly mind you, I noticed a slight gap, just big enough for a small animal to squeeze through. "Wonder if Treize knows this exists?"

Well, let's think here for a second. I am now below the cliff on which the manor sits…therefore; I am outside of the red wing… Shaking my head I pulled out the map, eyes searching until they alighted on the red wing. Yep…it was just beyond this wall.

"Why is there a cave of sorts leading to the red wing though?"

"Excuse me, but are you lost Mr. Maxwell?" I turned about and found Wufei the ever lovable caretaker glaring at me. Wonder why he doesn't like me?

"Um no. I was just wandering the paths. So, how goes it…Wufei right?" I needed to get this boy on my good side. My good hearted nature demanded it. Yeah I was a glutton for attention and people to love me. But who isn't? No one wants others to hate them unless their in sore need of medical help.

"Yes. Follow me Mr. Maxwell. Lunch will be served soon." With that he turned away, demeanor suggesting that I follow without argument.

"Please, call me Duo. So, you like working here? I'll bet this place looks cool during winter.   
What's your job here? Caretaker of what?" Babbling here Duo, I thought stupidly. Well, now he thinks I'm an idiot. Wonderful.

He looked back at me; eyes narrowed thoughtfully, black domineering his entire persona. "What is with you guests in wanting me to call you by your first names?" Ah, question for question huh? I can play.

"Hm, lets see, I asked you three questions and you asked me one. Not very challenging. Ok, I'll answer yours first but then you answer mine." I paused, snickering mentally at Wufei's stunned appearance. "Ok, I got it. Because I wanted you to call me by my first name. Now it's your turn. If you forgot my questions they are, in order: So you like working here? What's your job here? Caretaker of what?"

Again there was that goldfish mouth gaping wide thing I was talking about before.

Suddenly he smoothed down his ruffled feathers and glared at me. "Talkative aren't you. I'm sure you and Hilde will get along fine. If you must know, I don't like working here. My job is caretaker of the grounds. Meaning I make sure things run smoothly around here if Treize…I mean Mr. Kushrenada can't deal with it all."

"Wow, you elaborate a lot, you know that. Oh, and I heard that by the way." I quickly skipped ahead, waiting for him to catch up with me this time. I wasn't disappointed when I felt a hand on my arm holding me still.

"Heard what?" Oh, playing coy now? Kind of cute actually.

"Treize…hm, friends Wuffie?" I smirked as he glared harder, steam actually seeping from his ears and a jolly blush staining the bridge of his noise and cheeks.

"What makes you think that?" His gruff voice sounded curious, almost wishing for me to notice something.

"It's none of my business Wuffie. I just met you so I have no right to your personal life. He's cute though." I turned around, noticing that we were now almost back to the front gates. How was it that forest practically just shoves you in the right direction? Behind me I heard and irate growl, stating that his name was Wufei not Wuffie! I couldn't help but laugh.

A/N: This chapter is by far not my favorite but it got a few things out of the way. If something didn't make sense or you noticed a mistake please let me know so I can fix it. Thanks very much.


	6. Undistinguished Journal

Chap 6: Undistinguished Journal

"_That purest, most tragic concumbence, strangers clasped into one, a moment, of their moment on earth."_

I went back up to my room and took a quick shower, humming as I always do in showers and then found myself new clothes that weren't covered in dew and stains from my trek into the woods. I'd have to ask someone if there was a laundry mat in town or something. I was going through clothes like they were candy. Hardly the way I usually did things. I guess this place is just…meant to do that to tourists.

Oddly, a thought came to me then. I was there to get to know my heritage, and yet I hadn't even gone visiting the town yet. "Tomorrow is another day."

I found the dinning room without problem this time and sat down next to a smiling Quatre.

"How was your morning? I heard that Treize gave you the tour?" These people heard everything it seemed. I nodded and looked around quickly at the guests who were present. The elderly couple wasn't there along with the newlyweds. Must be sleeping in…or something. I shuddered at the thought and turned back to my inspection.

Relena was there, prim and proper in a white and pink pantsuit. How odd, never knew they made pink suits. Her blonde hair was done up in her usual do, and tied back with a pale pink ribbon. The girl needed to get out more…maybe find more colors in the spectrum. A few seats away were Mr. and Mrs. Gray, both looking average and dower as usual. Oddly enough, Daniel wasn't present and this seemed a bit out of place.

Yet the one thing that confused me more was the extra guest at our table. Did this place just produce new people out of thin air or was it just a normal occurrence? I'd have to ask Quatre later. The man sat at the head of the table, sitting straighter then a telephone pole, so you can imagine how uncomfortable it would be to be near the guy. Anyone wired that tight just didn't sit well with me. No pun intended. Not to mention that he must have been at least 6 feet tall if he had been standing, judging from my position. Hey, when god doesn't give short guys like me extra height we get envious of those who do. Don't judge if you don't know first hand…that's my motto.

He had shockingly pale blonde hair, which was pulled back lightly with a navy blue ribbon that brought out eyes of a glacier blue that would have made the titanic run in fright. At the moment they were trained on nothing in particular but I just knew I wouldn't want them on me any time soon. All in all, he was handsome, as handsome as some tall, broad blue eyed strangers could get. But something about him screamed, 'romancer'. He just seemed like a poetry and roses kind of guy…almost exactly like Treize . Hmm, something to think on later.

I turned to Quatre, my question already showing in my eyes it seemed for he smiled. "That's Zechs. He assists Treize with the guests. He makes certain Treize's job is easier in the long run."

"Oh…so, what, he runs the staffing and booking department?"

"Something like that." Quatre smiled quickly, long fingers playing with the stem of his glass of water. The room was a perfect temperature but with the ice water and Quatre's natural body heat, condensation had formed naturally and slipped down the clear glass to settle on the pads of his fingers. Call me anything you want but this always intrigued me. The natural order of things. Heat melted ice…water froze…cool air could cool any fervor. Like the saying goes…it's the simple things that matter most.

"Lunch is served." I looked up and noticed a tall lean man, quiet and unobtrusive. One thing you'd notice right away about him though was his hair. The man must have used an awful amount of gel in the morning to make it defy gravity like it did. It was a rich brown and fell over one of his sharp forest green eyes. At the moment one of those eyes was trained on only one person and that was Quatre beside me.

I turned to Quatre again to ask him if he knew the man but found Quatre to busy mooning to answer anything. Dishes were placed in front of us with simple two set courses. The first was a hot cheese and broccoli soup, steam billowing above it like a cloud. The other a plate of simple cold but bursting ham sandwiches with all the trimmings on marbled bread and what appeared to be homemade potato salad on the side. All in all, I felt as if this place was reading my mind. The food looked great.

"Kudos to the chef. This looks awesome. You were right Quatre, man can cook." I'm loud but I love food. I dug in not caring if Ms. Relena had a problem with my table manners or not.

"Enjoy." I looked up briefly to nod and smile then dove back into the soup. It was creamy and spiced just right.

"Duo…?"

"Yeah?" I quickly wiped my mouth on the cloth napkin at my side and grinned up at Quatre.

"That was the chef." He was smiling…more like laughing at me behind his spoon, which he appeared to be brandishing at me like a weapon of some sort.

"Really…well then he got my message. So that was the chef huh?" Quatre nodded, looking back down to his food, a soft smile gracing his face. "Know him well do you?" I said softly, leisurely eating the rest of my soup, eager to get to the sandwich.

"Why do you say that?" Quatre delicately picked up his water glass, sipping it before setting it aside, all while completely ignoring my leerful stare.

"Don't play coy…" I couldn't help but chuckle, fingers catching the dripping juices from the sandwich. "Wow, yummy. Wonder what sauce he uses?" I said between bites, taste buds humming in appreciation. God when I booked this place I thought I would have to starve on horrible rat infested food. See, I'm a KFC eater with the occasional Pannera here and there when I get the money. But hell this wasn't what I was expecting.

Pannera by the way…I must say it's probably the best soup, salad, sandwich, and bread joint ever invented. Anyway, I'm off of the subject at hand.

"What's his name?"

"Trowa Barton."

"Interesting…" I backed off, looking about at the other patrons. I could tease Quatre all day but the key was to lay it on lightly while in public but heavily in the corridors on the way out of the dinning room. That was my plan of action.

For the first time I noticed something I hadn't before. The dinning room, in its entire splendor, never caught my eye before. But now, in the glow of the afternoon sun, I was as breathless as Duo Maxwell can get. I knew it was huge but now it was colossal. Why would anyone ever need a dinning room so huge? Gold and ornate designs stole the eye away to play rampant in the jagged ceiling and daunting walls. If it wasn't so expertly achieved it would have been the eyesore of the century. The architects sure knew what they were doing.

Once the meal was finished and the plates were cleared away, Relena stood with a huff, turning towards Quatre with an air of disdain and a painful smile. "I wish to speak with you Mr. Winner. The study, I believe, is open. If you please…" and with that she turned and waltzed away.

I glanced over towards Quatre, wondering what it could be that she wanted to talk with him about. But the look Quatre was giving the now unoccupied doorway was enough to keep me quiet. Whatever it was she wanted to speak with him about, he already knew. "Excuse me Duo. I'll speak with you later then?" I nodded and he left, blonde hair covering most of his eyes from view.

I also quickly left the dinning hall, not sure if I should have wandered towards the study to have a good ol' accidental eve's drop or head off to another location. I thought it over briefly and decided to get most of the major sites of the castle in today and then head to town tomorrow. So with that in mind I decided against spying and headed towards the library. I was immensely curious as to what it looked like and if it had any good material for night time exploration. With no TV, you had to occupy your nights before bed with something.

The map quickly brought me to the back of the castle and the largest collection of books I've ever seen in the city. Shelves upon shelves were stocked with old and new volumes; leather of all different hues brought the pleasant smell of ages long since buried to the fore. Some were pleasant, like the smell of a newly bound book, spine yet uncracked with use and some seemed as if they were caked in dust and grime, too potent to be pleasing.

"Looks like the library from the beauty and the beast." And I wasn't lying either. Two sets of curving stairs led up to a second tier where latter's were set up to reach even higher. The ceiling was painted with scenes most likely from these very books themselves. A few of them I recognized, such as the Trojan horse and what appeared to be something more recent then I would have ever expected to be in a castle this old. Would you like to guess or should I tell you? Fine…it was peter pan circling the North Star. It seemed all too surreal. Whoever owned this place at the time must have just kept going…like completing a story.

Each panel showed signs of different owners…like a collage of painters united by one common goal…a story through the ages on a canvas seen by all. I quickly ran towards the middle of the room. All in all…I felt warm standing there, gazing at centuries of authors and painters work. Talent was swarming my senses and I felt privileged to be standing in a room others before me, that had created so magnificent a library, had.

The library in a nut shell was simple yet elegant. The tiles were a stunning white marble with swirls of gold on both sides. On either side a set of stairs inlaid in the tile lead to a supposed reading area, while the walls, not covered by shelves and books, were stone. Cherry wood paneling skirted each shelf and around a magnificent fireplace, where two panthers were sprawled above in green and blue stone, which could have easily held a rather large group of twenty or more people in it. And above that fireplace was the painting Treize had spoken of.

In it was the same blue eyed boy I had grown fond of in my brief stay. I had sympathy for him and what he must have gone through…I knew that if I could speak with him that I would feel a connection akin to that of long lost friends. Sitting before him in two grand chairs were most likely his mother and father. The father was stern, eyes easily readable letting the painter know that his time was precious and that he had better speed it along. The mother on the other hand was soft. This must seem odd but that's the only way to describe her. She wasn't a voluptuous beauty but she was soft…and kind. I could tell through the painting that she cared for everything around her with equal zeal. Maybe that was why she held parties with her husband's mistresses. Maybe she didn't know hate…until her son was murdered most likely.

One thing I did notice was that the two styles of the painting in the hall near the blue wing and this one were plainly obvious. The family portrait was without passion…a picture taken with a camera that only happened to be a paint brush. It held only a starving artists ardor, which was defined as basic detachment. The painting was cold and harsh. Basic lines to capture the basic of emotions, while the one of only Heero, was dripping with passion. Each stroke lovingly caressing the plains of his hard face, unruly hair and inhuman eyes.

Yes, the paintings were indeed done by two different people. That I knew for sure and a voice, almost like my own, whispered that it was done with a loving hand that could only belong to Varelet. His lover.

"What would Relena do if I were to bring this subject up at dinner? What mayhem could that cause?" I murmured to myself walking to the right staircase, ready to explore the selection available. One thing I noticed right away were that sections had been labeled, such as the normal fiction and biography sections but there were a few that were marked off as names of people. This must have been what Treize had spoken of before about moving all the books from the blue wing into its own personal section in the library. I quickly skipped past unknown names until I reached what I had hoped to find. Heero Yuy.

There was a latter leading upwards to even more books in this section. Holes in between sections were littered through out each shelf. Someone had decided to take a few out, it seemed. Shrugging I glanced over a few titles at eye level. Titles such as, 'Strategy in defense, and Lilies of the Wild,' that last so happened to be a book of poems. I figured as I leafed through it casually before putting it down on the floor for me to pick up before I left.

Smirking, I grabbed hold of the latter and climbed, scanning titles for anything promising. As I reached the end of the latter with my head almost touching the ceiling, my pants were stuffed with books, protruding out from my belt that was holding them in place. These last titles were the oddest yet. There were more poem books, these appearing to be more…how shell we say…sexy in a rhyming way.

So Heero Yuy had a hidden passion in poetry did he? I mused as I pulled the latter along the wall for another quick skim of the top shelf. It seemed the furthest I went the fewer books seemed to be missing. So whoever had visited Heero Yuy's section didn't go any higher then five yards off of the balcony. Just as I was leaving Heero's section something caught my eye. Or lack thereof I should say. The book was plain. No title, leather beaten and stained, shoved back between two large books entitled, 'Theories of Science Yet Undiscovered, volumes one and two.' I pulled it out carefully, afraid of the price of breaking an antique. Did Treize even know something this fragile looking was here?

Of course he did, he was the governor of the manor for Christ's sake. I bet he even dreams about the quality of fresh towels in the guest's bathrooms. Sighing I carefully picked my way down the latter, hoping none of my stole away books would fall. As soon as I was about a foot off the ground an almost shrill sound erupted from the entrance causing me to almost fall off in a most discomforting way. I didn't need a broken neck or spinal injury while on this trip.

Once I was safely on the ground and seeking out the cause of my almost demise, I found Relena pounding up the stairs in an unladylike fashion that had me stunned, with cheeks red and eyes narrowed. "What do you think you are doing?" Her voice was soft, almost a whisper but still harsh with her uneven breathing.

"I'm picking up some reading material. You know, there are no TV's or radios here so I have to amuse myself somehow. Which I must say is very difficult. I love TV immensely so it's really rather hard to go with out for so long." I answered absently as I plucked the books out of my waistband. I talked incessantly when I didn't want to have to listen to what another person had to say. In that case I really didn't want to have to go another round with Relena Peacecraft.

"Just 'picking' up some reading material? These are Sir Heero Yuy's private collection and are not meant to be 'picked' and placed in such an undignified and dishonorable way." She ended her little tirade by picking up the book of poems I had set aside earlier. "And they are to be shown with respect and not handled with obvious discare." Her voice had risen only an octave higher, brandishing the book of poems at me like a sword.

Ok, so what gave her the right to treat me like a child? I don't think I ever said anyone could treat me less then mud.

"Well, I'm sorry if I upset you but there was no way for me to carry the books down without me falling."

"Of course there is. You take one at a time. Not that you should be taking these books." Her voice softened and her eyes were guarded as she skimmed through the titles in my arms. "Why are you so fascinated with him?"

I could ask the same thing about you, I thought. "Well, for one, I'm just curious. Two, I'm bored and I thought it would be interesting to learn up on the local lore."

Relena mouthed something, eyes looking over the shelves around me. She seemed lost in her own little Relena world. Unable to comprehend the present situation. In that moment I realized something crucial…she was still just a child. So sad and lonely…

"Is there something wrong Ms. Relena?"

Her head snapped up, eyes wide in horror at being caught in such a vulnerable position. "Ah, no why would you think that?"

"Because you just looked so forlorn. I didn't mean to presume, but…um are you sure there's nothing wrong?" I don't know why I was being nice to her. She was the one who seemed it was her personal mission to make my life hell…or anyone's life hell if it came to the estates. "And not to be rude or anything but…you don't even know me and you somehow deduced that I'm some evil person."

"Ms. Relena?" She froze, like a child caught in the act of drawing fun doodles on the walls with crayon. Beyond her and standing in the center of the room stood Quatre, still prim as ever. Looking more and more the grownup then I ever considered him to be. His eyes were harsh while everything else about him was the same old Quatre as before. Knowing smiles, fancy suits, bouncy blonde hair and a stature of a man not to be trifled with. That was the man who I had come to associate with the boy I had been introduced to. "Ms. Relena is there a problem we need to take to Mr. Kushrenada?"

"Mr. Winner…of course not. I was merely letting our other guest know how 'valuable' these items are and that they are not to be taken out of the library to be ruined." Her voice was tight, head now held high as she smiled doubtfully. Something about the way her rigid body trembled just slightly told me that there was more behind Quatre's and Relena's relationship.

"Ms. Relena, this is a library…" Quatre spoke delicately as if speaking to a child as he mounted the stairs at a steadier pace. "These books can be taken out as you so well know as long as they are signed in and out. If Duo here cannot take these books out then neither can anyone else…" He had reached the landing, smile still fallaciously in place.

Relena made a noise along the lines of an exhale and swiftly turned around back to me. "Fine, but if you ruin these books you'll only have yourself to blame. Quatre can't save you then." She turned about ready to head away.

"Um, Relena. The book?" She stopped and glared silently at me before shoving the poem book into Quatre's hand, heels signaling her angry departure down the stairs and out the twin doors. "What's wrong with her? Stray dog chew up her designer shoes?"

The moment broke; I quickly made sure all my books were held safely within the circle of my arm before accepting the one from Quatre. It bothered me little to know that she hadn't answered my question. I didn't blame Quatre for intervening but still…it made me downright twitchy to know that someone hated me for something I didn't do or didn't not do. If that makes sense.

"Do you want me to help you?" Quatre still looked angry, but his voice was still as sweet as ever. I hope I can keep in contact with him after this vacation.

"Oh, no, I'm good. But what I really want to know is what caused her highness to fall of her high horse." Quatre walked with me, face solemn and questionable.

"Duo, can you keep a secret? I mean, I know we haven't known each other very long but I do wish for us to get along." I hurriedly nodded, not wanting to loose one of two friends that I had made. "Well, you remember Relena wanting to talk to me after lunch right?"

"Yep. And just to let you know in return since were sharing…I sort of almost gave into my baser needs and spied on your conversation but I quickly decided against it. Sorry…" I bolted the rest of my sentence out quickly, not one for holding onto secrets that weren't life threatening.

"It's okay Duo. I kind of figured with your inquisitive nature that you'd be curious about this anyway. Well, to start, I knew something was wrong with her. If you didn't notice all throughout lunch she appeared… edgy, almost stressed about something. Usually I don't pry but I could feel her worry like waves off her mind. We went to the study and she started the conversation with the usual greetings. Things I don't think you'd want to hear anyway, but I digress."

"Nah, not really. You rich people have the oddest ways and I usually just nod my head and smile anyway." We had made it out of the library and were heading to the violet wing, the halls echoing around us as we talked. I couldn't help but remember my former mission and quickly filed it for a discussion in my private rooms and not in the hallway. Plus something was bothering Quatre…something I figured didn't happen much.

"She was having a problem…"

"Like that's something new in her life I'll bet."

"No, it was along the lines of…well Lowe manor actually. You have heard about Mr. Callaway Jr. am I right?" I nodded, holding fast the many slipping books. Maybe I should have asked for assistance I mused as Quatre continued. "Well, apparently she tried contacting him again, this morning. He agreed to come by, it seemed, and will be arriving at the manor shortly."

He paused, eyes taking in the decor with little to no enjoyment. This Quatre wasn't one I was used to. He seemed hard…unresisting…maybe even a little afraid. "What's wrong then? That doesn't seem to bad, right?" So a guy was coming to the manor to see Relena? To bad for him but I still didn't get it.

"I had wished that it ended there but it doesn't. Mr. Callaway Jr. is now the owner as I've told you and on numerous accounts have sworn Relena off but it seems there is a new problem to reconsider."

The entire mood of the conversation was too somber and secretive for my liking. Like we were about to head into battle with only tooth brushes and pillows for weapons and armor. Something just didn't seem right. I mean come on…who would want to head into battle with a tooth brush and a pillow…I thought so. "And…?"

"Well, let's just say she had caught wind of a business deal and didn't like it. Apparently Mr. Callaway was planning to sell half of the estate off to someone he wouldn't say. But being Relena she spent most of this morning pulling every string in her arsenal and found what she had been looking for."

"And…?" I was about to pull Quatre's strings if he didn't stop with the dramatic pauses.

"She found out my little dealings with my partner." Quatre was smiling again…not the sweet boy next door smile; no it was more along the line of scary, has a double life, boy next door smile.

"Uh, right? I'll pretend to understand what your saying Quatre buddy."

"Duo, remember when I said that Mr. Callaway wouldn't give Relena the Manor because of the way she treated him?"

"Yeah…" Okay things were coming together…boringly slow…but coming together.

"Well, Mr. Callaway decided to make more of a profit by selling half of the estate to myself and my partner."

Ding…little light in head came on. "So…you and this partner bought half of the estate right out from under Relena's nose? Wow, now there's balls." He nodded, walking quickly ahead to open my door for me, seeing as my hands were full. I put my books down on the nearest table and bounded over onto the bed. "Okay…so you and your partner now own half of this place…what half?"

He chuckled sitting down gently next to me. "It doesn't work that way. Me and my partner own half of the manor in a more business way. Mr. Callaway still holds the property and land and has say over a few details while myself and my partner deal with the rest."

"What's left?" Seemed like they didn't get the good end of the deal.

"There's a lot left. But let's not get into that. It's boring. So Duo, find anything of interest in the library?"

"Yeah actually but I have something else to ask you Winner." I leaned back, elbows digging into the fresh bedding. Hilde must have cleaned while I was away this morning. "So…what was with that whole goo goo over Mr. Trowa Barton, chef extraordinaire? Huh…something going on?"

Never before had I seen a near grown man blush so brightly. Quatre turned away, one hand digging deep into his pants pocket and the other resting lightly on the back of his neck. "Trowa was…is special."

"Alright then…do tell. We have time for a little story don't we?" It wasn't like I was on a tight schedule or anything.

"It's not really exciting. The first time I came here he and I became instant friends. We uh, well he always brought me things…" Quatre wistfully looked back to the window, walking slowly towards it. "They were special in their simplicity. The first was just a flower he had picked from the grounds and placed on my breakfast platter. I woke up to the smell of syrup and waffles with strawberries pilled on top. One day I commented on dinner, chicken I believe…no a Cornish hen. I always get them confused. Well, like you, I had to comment the chef on his amazing food…Trowa was standing there smiling at me… I only felt the right fool when I got back to my room and the recipe was sitting by my door. Then, when I was in the library, one of the maids came to me with a note. I waited until they were gone before reading it."

I turned about on the bed, laying on my stomach while I listened to his dry retelling. Sounded like courtship to me…awfully romantic. "Yeah…so?"

"It was an invitation. I was to go to the conservatory when the sun set. There between the roses was a table set for two. Trowa was standing nearby with a single white rose between his fingers. He gave it to me, not saying a word, just that gentle smile. Like he already knew everything my mind had to say. We talked like the very best of friends reunited after so many long years that night. I learned of his childhood and he mine. I guess he made the atmosphere that evening more relaxed…like he was just testing the waters if you will. Wondering if I was interested."

"What ya do?" Damn, if I was a cat, my ears would be perked with excitement. I'd never been romanced like that in all my short years. It was probably really nice.

"I kissed the rose. Ever since then, I don't stop getting them. Not that I would complain." Quatre smiled again, leaning on the windows sill. "What about you Duo? Anyone special?"

"Sorry to burst your bubble, but no. I had a…well, if you want to call it a relationship, about a year ago. Lets just say I learned some very shocking things our last night together."

"What do you mean?"

I couldn't help but sigh deeply, turning over to lie on my back. "He wanted to be a female and was actually in the process of getting it done as we spoke that night." I could still remember how hurt I felt. I was his boyfriend and yet he couldn't tell me he was taking hormone pills and seeing a doctor to change willy to willyeta. Heck I was even willing to take him; she male and all but he told me he wanted a new and fresh relationship with a man that would never know his secret. Like you could hide something like that forever. But what really hurt me was when he said that every time we had had sex he was never satisfied.

I felt utterly sick after that. He was going to find a man…most like straight and fool him into thinking he was a she. I would feel betrayed…heck I did when he told me his reasons. I also couldn't help but feel stupid and used. All that time he was toping me and he had been wishing he could be a female getting topped. Like I was his guinea pig. I was only there as a test trial.

"Interesting." I looked over and laughed suddenly at the look of concentration on Quatre's face. His eyes were looking up towards the ceiling, and his mouth was quirked, as if he was trying to decipher in his mind how something like that would be like.

"Look Quatre. You're a very nice looking man…so don't go trying to get a sex change on me."

"Never! Why would I do that?" He pushed off the window and headed to the doors. "Well, Duo I'll see you later then. Don't get into trouble."

"Humph…life's boring if you live in a sheltered bubble all your life little Quatre." The door clicked shut on Quatre's amused sniff.

I got up, scratching through my hair as I picked up the pile of books to deposit on the bed for me to sift through. The odd thing was I instinctively picked up the journal and put it aside, knowing I would read it before I left the room. The many poetry books I grabbed were artful. Imagery written down in word and sometimes so confusing I couldn't understand why the hell I was reading it. They were old. Written in a language long since disused and abandoned.

One, which I ear marked delicately, was filled to the brim with sonnets describing the acts between two lovers whose genders remained anonymous, a man in search for a suitable wife, a rambunctious boy ready to fill his life with lewd acts from anything on two legs and some of even stranger caliber. Such as the one where the man got excited over a lady at his party whose ribbons were unlaced. Talk about odd things to get excited about. But there was one that I couldn't get enough of.

The page looked dirtier then any of the other ones as if pawed over and over again, soils from the hands inking the page. It wasn't very long and less like any poem I've ready before. It was more of a story really.

_**Violet Moon**_

_Written by: D. A. Ashlon_

_I watch the stars at night_

_I watch the moon fill the sky_

_I see the world through another's eyes_

_Yet unperceived through mine own._

_Why do I fight thine?_

_Why do I fight thine?_

_Eyes of most brilliant shine,_

_I need thee more then crown,_

_I need thee more then life,_

_I need thee more then reputation._

_Then I will awaken to another's beauty, _

_Most forbidden to me._

_Your strong body like mine own,_

_Your lust like mine own._

_You are not like the others,_

_You are more then the stars_

_More then the moon, _

_Shinning so brightly in your eyes._

_I need thee, want thee,_

_And it will destroy me in the end._

_Your violet moons._

I know exactly what my old high school English teacher would say about his poem. Absolutely rubbish. Poetry is not something created on a whim. It needs to be balanced. Syllables must be exact and the rhyming scheme intact. But, if someone wanted to make poetry then it should be what ever it is they feel is in their heart.

Sighing I closed the book, lovingly petting its leather cover. Quickly I put it aside and grabbed the journal, the prize of my possessions. It was eating at me, I'll confess. I wanted to know what was in it, but a thought still lingered on the surface of those greedy confessions. If this was indeed a journal, I had no right reading it. That's how I felt anyway but then logic caught up with me and I remembered whoever wrote it be it Heero or some worker in the castle who wanted to hide his sad and pathetic life in between greatness, was long since dead.

The binding creaked as I slowly opened it. It had been a long time since anyone had touched this book. But it was still pristine, almost new inside except for the yellowing edges of the pages. The first page was in fact an entry, in a neat cursive scrawl. The date was old barely legible as the ink had ran in some places.

_July 24_

_You're wondering why you're writing in this awful book aren't you. Why didn't you chuck it out of the window for the horses to tromp on below? What did she think she would accomplish by giving this…thing…to me? That I would become closer with her? That I would stop hating her for letting father treat her like one of his many whores. She's his wife…she's my mother and yet she does nothing. She has tea and tiny parties for those…miscreants god may call women. Thinking that she can just melt the problem away with a smile. Even our people think it's ludicrous. _

_Yes kings may have concubines…mistresses, even slaves…I would never suggest that they shouldn't… I'm not that thick to suggest otherwise to men long thinking their due is in sex. No, but having a harem is not the way we should be seen as a kingdom to others. That we have no value for women here unless they can produce children and are beautiful enough to be seen with kings._

The entry between was smeared in too many places to be clearly legible so I skipped over it sadly to the next angry paragraph.

_He believes that I think the same way he does. That I will also take into the power and become one with everything I despise. However does he not see me? His eyes are cold and hard, my mothers soft and dead. We are a family no longer…and I for one will always reject…that woman, my father calls wife. I have better things to think about. Better problems to solve._

_Heero Yuy_

My eyes left the writing, brain having stopped imputing what was written before it. This was Heero Yuy's journal…his life. How…strange. You'd think something like this would have been kept in a vault or put in a glass case to be displayed somewhere in the castle. Why was it stuffed away in a library?

"So what, it's not like no one shouldn't read it." I flipped the page over; the next entry was even smaller.

_July 29_

_I have no need to write down my feelings in this prison of a book. They are mine alone that shouldn't be pried into by strangers. I know my mother has sneaked into my room to find it…to read the things I would never tell her. Maybe that was her scheme all along. Well, no more. Never let an enemy into your mind. Weakness isn't expectable._

_Heero Yuy_

That was it. I flipped another couple pages until I stumbled upon something else. There were no bitter words of a young man, but drawings of simple things. A light sketch of a tree, leaves falling off slowly in the whipping wind and the water of the distant lake rippling where fishes surfaced and lily pads floated. The scene was alive amazingly so, whoever drew it…be it Heero or someone else who had possession of the book was exceedingly talented. The next was of a barn…where this barn was I don't know. I had yet to see or hear of a barn. Another was a scene of a busy kitchen. Staff of all sizes and facial expressions darted about to finish their work. Dishes, pots and stoves were steaming, and a young boy was darting about the grownups to catch what appeared to be a duck. Another woman in an apron brandishing a rolling pin was also chasing the boy, face showing blatant fury.

The picture was light, as if the illustrator never sought to go too deep into detail. It breathed reality. This was a scene…a piece of history drawn down for all…for me to see. My heart actually skipped a beat. The thought that this had happened so long ago and that the people in the picture were real people long since buried, was an addicting sensation.

Suddenly the air of the pictures changed. They became harder, emotion rolling off the surface of the painfully deep pencil lines. I ran my fingers lightly down the page, noting the many bumps and grooves. The scene was like a spread. It started on the left page and ended on the right. At first I didn't understand what the mayhem created but then I saw and I realized how hurtful it was.

There were people…so many people crowded in one room, dim candle light bounced off faces which seemed terrified of something…terrified of me it seemed. They looked at the drawer or to the man sitting to the right and just ahead of him. All these people had chains about their ankles and wrists, linked together in one mass blob. Their clothing were simple rags, the pencil coloring each cloth until it was barely distinguishable except black.

I didn't know what to make of the picture. Obviously the illustrator wasn't pleased by the situation they were in. Sighing I rubbed my eyes, groaning as I noted the dark smudges decorating my fingertips…great. The next picture was once again light but it had an entirely knew feeling to it...a deer grazing by a stream. It made me smile. I don't know why it just did. The drawer was peaceful again, not angry…I could tell. The next few pages were blank and I thought that that was it but before I closed the book I quickly flipped through the pages and about ¾ of the way towards the back were more drawings. These are what stunned me the most.

One was a quick picture drawn of a boy…or man, standing next to another older gentleman. They were in a grand room of sorts and it seemed as if the older man was talking to someone else hidden behind the two. His hands were gesturing wildly about him while the other was just standing still, arms not in the picture most likely holding something. Their clothes were simple, peasant from the look of things but nothing ratty. The next drawing was a picture of the same people. The old man was indeed old. His face was wrinkled, hair white and wispy. The two appeared to be unpacking two small horses. The old man was searching through a small pack while the other was unloading what appeared to be an easel…

Then it clicked…what if these were the painters? What if this was a picture of master and apprentice…Varelet…painters that did the portraits of the Yuy family and Heero? Too many what ifs…and once again, you could see nothing but a back, side profile of the other younger male. But what you could see was a slim tapered body with a pair of black pants a size too big and a rather large black shirt that was most likely a hand me down from his master. Yet the one thing I did find rather odd and almost coincidental was the fact that the boy…man child had a long braid…like my own. Now tell me how freaky that is?

I quickly flipped the next page, a need surging within me to find a picture that showed me Varelet's face…if that was Varelet. Oddly enough the next picture was drawn of Varelet…what I thought to be Varelet, standing alone by a tree…in what appeared to be the garden I had visited just recently. One hand held the side of the tree, almost all of his profile drawn to perfection but I still couldn't discern what he looked like…but the picture was flawless none the less. Wisps of hair and part of his long shirt blew in the wind, shading down to create dusk. The picture called to me like all the others but there was an added…weight to it. I don't know what. Just as I was about to flip to the next page there was a knock on my door.

Instinctively I stashed the journal underneath one of the many pillows on the bed, picked up the poem book entitled Lilies in the Wind and bellowed for whoever it was to enter. Hilde peaked her head through the crack in the door, smile fixed brilliantly on her face.

"Do you patent that smile or is it just something you buy off eBay every week to keep it fresh?" I put the poem book down ready to get whatever it was she needed down so he could get back to the journal.

"Duo…please. I just wanted to come see if you were still here? Watcha doing?" she bounded in the room landing on the vast bed. I watched the many books bounce along with her, lifting into the air just momentarily.

"Nothing much…just a little light reading…why?"

Hilde glanced through the pile, loosing interest around the third book. "Oh, nothing." She trailed off, eyes wandering over the décor aimlessly.

Rolling my eyes, leaned back on the bed and submitted to the knowledge that my quirky little maid was either bored or trying to skirt her duties. "Hey Hilde…tell me more about Varelet." As if a button had been thrown, her eyes lit up and she crawled further up on the bed. I refused to point out that she was practically in a room with a stranger…on his bed…with barely a care in the world. It's not like I would attack her but she should have at least some boundaries.

"Alright…if you must know. I am the only one of the maids with the most knowledge on the subject…so it was a wise choice. Let's see, Varelet arrived at the Yuy manor with his master. Señore John Deŕorock. They say he was not exactly a hard man but a cold one…distant if you will. His work was everything and there was nothing outside it. He treated Varelet just like any apprentice would be treated only on a grander scale. Deŕorock expected more from Varelet then most did of their apprentices. Not that Varelet ever refused. He went in stride with his demands silently, not once whining or refusing any order. Deŕorock was a man supposedly that picked on originality and stamina. His apprentices…the few that he had in his long life time, were all expected to be great…as great if not better then him and he would try his damned hardest to be apart that greatness, even as his old body dwindled rapidly under times good graces." Ones again, Hilde's story telling had me enthralled. So far, everything was panning out. There was an old man in the drawings and a silent shadow…Varelet. It had to be.

"His life was…alright. Now don't go asking twenty questions about his past before he came to Lowe Manor because little if anything is known about him except that he was an orphan and Deŕorock took him in when he was a child of 10. When he came to Lowe Manor the staff, of course, was intrigued. It's been stated…passed down if you will, that he was kind…loving…rambunctious like all young men. He went down to the servants quarters often, trading stories and relaxing with them over a cup or two of old wine that the manors table never finished drinking after supper.

One of the older ladies that works here…her great great great…so forth, grandfather knew Varelet personally and passed down stories of their times together. Apparently they were…friends…acquaintances, I'm not sure which. That's the only reason she's allowed to stay on staff…only because she's apart of the history here. But let me tell you she's almost damned useless when it comes to cleaning. Anyway, she also has a godson that works here too. You might have met him. Names Trowa Barton. He's head chef." She waited minutely as I nodded my head. "Well, Barton was his father's name…his maiden name, the name of the man that knew Varelet, was della Vici. Anyway he was loved by basically everyone working at Lowe Manor."

"Alright." I nodded ready for her to continue. There had to be more…something else to fit the puzzle that buzzed along my brain. Though the thought of Trowa's ancestors knowing Varelet and the Lowe's was extremely fascinating. I wondered if I'd ever get the time to talk to him.

"So, what I really have the juicy stuff on…this coming from basically all my sources, is that when Varelet arrived he had been confused. It had been circulating that there had been an accident and that the boy didn't even remember his name. Quite interesting isn't it?"

"He had amnesia?" That would suck. Not knowing who you were, was definitely a black and white world I would never want to be apart of.

"Mhmmm." She mumbled, eyes darting towards the door suddenly. In the distance I could hear an audible click of shoes on stone. "Yep, and, now this is important…" she opened her mouth to finish but instead of her voice it was another's coming down the hall.

"Hilde! Where are you? You are supposed to be cleaning the stairs in the northeast section! They are practically molding away as we speak!" The voice was young…shrill in a deep way. I know that sounds odd, but it was.

"Whoops got to run. Shirked the duties bestowed upon me by the benevolent Dorothy. See ya later Duo." With that she jumped off the bed and skipped out of the room. I distantly heard her laughter and the other girl screaming at her to stop running. Smiling I began to pull the journal out again when another knock resounded.

"What is it now…?" I groaned even as Quatre walked in, eyes wide.

"What is it?" he asked surprised.

"I asked you first." I spoke petulantly getting off the bed and heading for the restroom. I probably still had a dark smudge about my eye. Wonder what Hilde thought of that? I left the door open, silently inviting Quatre to come in. I turned the tap on; glad that we weren't in the 1800's when there was no indoor plumbing. Gotta love indoor plumbing.

"Actually I was wondering if you wanted to come with me and the guys. You know, get away from the castle have a little fun out on the town tomorrow after supper?" I looked into the mirror, Quatre smiling shiftily behind me.

"Who are the guys?" I turned the tap off, wiping my fingers off on nearby towel.

"That's for me to know and you to find out…if you say yes…" He looked pleadingly at me, as if my answer would decide if he lived or died.

"Fine, I'll go. Probably some initiation into your rich boys of the month club right. I'll be the mascot?" I said jokingly, laughing heartily at the end to make sure Quatre knew I didn't mean it.

"No. You'll see. Now come with me now." He grabbed my arm pulling me from the bathroom and then the room all together. I silently bid the journal farewell; I guess life didn't want me to finish looking through it at the moment.

Winner pulled me through the halls, hand still painfully tight about my arm. What did he think I was going to make a run for it? Finally we came to be outside, Quatre talking happily over his shoulder to me about a fun little place most of the staff didn't even know about on Lowe grounds. We quickly walked down the gravel road and right as we left the sanctuary of the gates…unlocked surprisingly enough…a place I had entered not to long ago; he veered left down a path I hadn't seen before while waiting for the gates to open.

"Now you can't tell anyone I deliberately brought you here. Treize doesn't mind if guests find it on their own but he doesn't want people that do know where it is to show the way. He doesn't want it part of the tourist attraction. There's already too much to handle as is." Well, that didn't make much sense but ok.

We gradually made our way down the path, Quatre brushing aside stray branches and me just running my hand along the stone wall. Finally, from the direction the castle was facing through the tree tops, I could tell we had made it to the left side of the castle where to my astonishment the woods had ended off into a field…most likely a farmers seasonal crops. Sitting next to the wall was the barn. Its wood warped in some places and the stone foundation covered in green moss. Inside I could hear the distinct winy of a horse.

"Come. I'm sure he has to be there about now." See who? Quatre tugged my arm and we sprinted through the field until we ran into the barn. The individual smells of hay, manure and cedar overwhelmed me.

"So wait…why is the barn on the outside of the castle?"

"Oh, that's easy; this barn was actually not part of the Lowe property but in fact belonged to the Le Blanc family. They were the local farmers who sold their crops to the Lowe's on a discount so they could keep their land. Lowe wanted to have their property in order to extend the manor, but thought it better in the long run to keep them around. Their house was just over there but it was burned downed quite a while ago. No one knows how. But this barn still stands. Sturdy like most buildings from that time period if left alone." Quatre walked into the building calling out to someone, the name lost in the sudden raucous. I glanced over to where Quatre had pointed a place where the old farm house used to be. All there was now were a few stone blocks where the small foundation once stood.

Shaking my head I stuffed my hands deep into my pockets and followed Quatre inside. It took me only a second to find my new friend, for he was at that moment picking on the exotic Asian who I had met on my first day at Lowe Manor, Wufei Chang, caretaker and hotty extraordinaire. The man was pitching hay from the loft down to the floor below where he would most likely put into the horses bins.

"What do you want Winner. I really haven't the time."

"Oh please Wufei…it's not like anyone ever comes down here and no one is scheduled to come to the Manor today. Unless you count the afternoon romps in the hay with a special someone's…" Wufei sputtered angrily, tossing hay down upon us. Instead of joining the laughing Quatre I took my leisure in examining the stables. All the horses…a grand total of four, were a variety of sizes and colors, all too busy grazing in their grain buckets to pay any attention to humans. Up above the bins was what my mind supplied as a loft, which was occupied by Wufei, grumbling as he tried to pitch hay directly at the smiling Quatre who had made a joke, most likely at his expense. I really wasn't paying much attention…I'll tell ya.

I found the ladder and began my assent, tuning out Wufei's cry that I wasn't 'allowed up there.' Once I reached the top I walked around the bales of hay, heading to the opening at the opposite end which my mind supplied as the door in which farmers pitched the hay out of the barn. Hell, my farm vocabulary and knowledge were far from vast. Heck I didn't even know what the hell it was called…not that I cared. I pushed the door open; well it seemed more like a rather large window, and saw natural beauty. The world beyond was the same as before…only higher up. I guess a new perspective could do that to senses so akin to ground level viewpoints.

"Nice huh?"

I glanced behind me at Quatre who was sporting the lovely look of hay all over his head. Strands sticking absurdly between each blond hair. "Did you have a fight with scarecrow Quatre?"

He shrugged, and sat down on the open ledge. "I like this barn. It's peaceful, quiet compared to the castle…" he whispered, eyes not leaving the horizon.

"What do you mean? There's basically no noise…if any…at the castle. Except for Hilde and Relena." Quatre smiled sadly.

"It's not what one hears…it's what one, one knows has happened."

Now, let me describe the look on my face at that exact moment. Gaping goldfish with eyebrows in totally two different directions then they should be capable of. Did you understand what he said…cause I sure as hell didn't.

"What?"

"Listen Duo…it's not just what you hear with your ears, it's what you hear in that castle's walls…in its many rooms…you can feel it through your bones. History is a painfully loud experience, but this barn has always been…quiet, sweetly innocent. Understand."

"Maybe." I shrugged, so the barn was innocent. Could be worse I suppose. Nothing's ever really ever innocent though. I felt like telling him he was wrong. This place was far from innocent. I could feel something…not hatred, anger or fear, but there was something…pleasure.

"Duo?"

"Yeah?"

"Are you listening to me?" I looked over to Quatre, his eyes narrowed and speculative.

"Sure."

"I asked you where you got the necklace…it's very beautiful." His voice was wistful, full of curiosity.

Stunned I looked down to see that it had somehow managed to wiggle free of my shirt and into my hand. Chuckling I tucked it back away, pulling up my collar as high as it would stretch. "It's nothing…family heirloom." The one thing I would never sell for cash.

"Winner, would you please leave. I need to get my work done and your both distracting." Wufei called across the way, sweat running down his bare arms and onto the pitchfork. The day wasn't excruciatingly hot, but it was sticky and the wind had died until not even the leaves on their branches swayed.

"Please. Like us talking is distracting you're oh so ingenious work." Quatre called back, smirking back at me.

"Ya never know Quatre. He may have to count every toss of hay or something." I counter acted, glad to get off the subject of my necklace. Seeing the Asian man fume sort of made me…I don't know…happy. Stupid yeah I know but I haven't felt this type of family feeling…well, more of a friend feeling in such a long time. I don't have many friends…did I tell you that already…oh well, I don't. They just never appealed to me. I believe if having no friends at age 17…well almost 18, next week I think is my birthday, well any who, then you won't be subjected to their ideals. Yeah if you have acquaintances then you're safe. You're not attached. You're free to go do what want without obligations to another party…free to make as many touchdowns with as many people in one as you can without letting into your mind…into your heart.

I guess I've grown icy over the years. But I just never found someone who thought like me…or made me want to think like them. Maybe Quatre is a stepping stone in the right direction.

"Maxwell was it?" Wufei had stopped, the corner of one eye twitching sporadically.

"Yes. Want to profess your love to me properly Wuffee…you know we just met and all but I'm flattered."

Wufei scowled heavily in return and turned his back to us, his face as bright red as a cherry. After that, me and Quatre whispered, which I thought only pissed off Wufei even more but he couldn't say we were disturbing him anymore could he? Well, we just talked about meaningless things. Things I've never really gave much thought to. So when he asked me my favorite desert I had to stop and think for a minute…or five. I have a lot of favorites…I've never in my life just had one favorite that I couldn't stop wanting for five seconds unless…"Well I guess if it has anything to do with chocolate then I'm game." I told him, he laughed…chuckled like a gentlemen really and then told me his favorite. Just plan old…chocolate.

We had a good laugh both at our choices and at Wufei grumblings from one of the horse's bins below. So this is what I've figured out about myself. One, I like any desert that has to do with chocolate, two, my favorite all time food is anything not burnt…p.s. not squash, beets, spinach, eggplant, lasagna, or spaghetti…I do have my hatred limits. Anyway, thirdly, my favorite color…colors actually are purple, black and blue. To my chagrin…bruise colors according to Quatre, but it seems more fitting really. Fourthly, my favorite show after about half an hour of discussion ended to something I saw at least five times from the T.V. across the way from my apartment. Dead like Me, something on HBO.

A girl, tired of life is killed…get this, by a toilet seat from a space station in outer space, and is taken under a couple of grim reapers wings. She is then taught how to take the souls from people's bodies before they die a violent death. Cliché enough, she doesn't want this and refuses to take her first assignment, to take the soul of a little girl. Hey, it's a real show, and it was amazingly riveting. Hell it's HBO.

Anyhoot, fifthly, my favorite movie was a stalemate between Lord of the Rings films and…don't laugh…Ever After. I said don't laugh. Quatre did enough of that for the both of us. I know it's a sissy girl movie meant to make the chicks ball their eyes out and hope for romantic interludes with their own prince charmings instead of what the universe has to offer now, but it was sweet. It was the way love should be treated. It touched me, what can I say.

Well, lets breeze through Quatre's favorites then. You know his favorite desert, his favorite food is anything made by Trowa…gag, and he thinks I'm a girly girl. His favorite color is white…says it goes with anything, his favorite show is, get this, Animal Planet…thinks it's instructional and his favorite movie is Interview with a Vampire. Let's see, I've never seen the movie personally but from the description he gave me I really do want to and blast the mansion for not having a TV for the first time since I got there. I won't go into the details lets just say that Louis, human turned vampire by Lestat, the vampire, is troubled because he can't let go of his humanity to take what is necessary to keep him alive…blood. Finally Lestat, in order to keep his love under his care, makes a little girl Claudia, who was Louis mistaken dinner, into a vampire for him to take care of. There's too much more to go into but the movie just sounds like a Duo Maxwell film.

Oh, here's the funny thing, we weren't able to get Wufei to answer all the questions but we did manage to weasel out his favorite color and desert. Green, and…get this…cinnamon raisin rice pudding…I know he's Asian but please. I've tried regular rice pudding before I can't imagine how awful cinnamon raisin rice pudding could taste.

"Hey Duo?" We were heading back to the castle, dinner about to be served and we weren't dressed or smelling pleasant enough to join the ranks at the dinner table.

"Yeah?"

"Do you think we can have another chat sometime? I enjoyed that." He actually did, that's what surprised me. No one's ever enjoyed my company…but then I've never enjoyed somebody else's company either.

"Sure Quatre. Anytime." We split ways at the castle both of us running for our rooms.

I only had enough time to wash quickly with a cold rag and fling on any article of clothing that looked clean enough. That's it, I thought, I need to find the laundry mat, this is the last of my clean clothes.

Dinner was a grand affair. Candle light, small appetizers of miniature proportions, what I believed to be some French didy where they put tomato slices on a piece of fancy cracker. Either way, I could have done without but thought it polite to try it and found that…it wasn't that bad. It wasn't filling and served as just the beginning to the pallet. Honey roasted duck on a bed of steamed wild rice, which I needed soy sauce for, I hate eating plain rice, and buttered zucchini was the main meal. Got to say, Trowa can cook. Wonder why he's not some famous chef…why would a guy who can cook like this work at a bed and breakfast for a lack of a better word. But, wonderfully enough, desert was a dark forest chocolate cake. Hell, if the man wasn't already taken then I would have to steal him away if he could cook things this chocolaty all the time.

Now I can see why Quatre's favorite food was anything Trowa made.

"So Duo, doing anything special tomorrow?" Quatre and Daniel had been their usual chatterbox selves during dinner. I was kind of curious about what Daniel did all day but thought best not to pry and just enjoyed our evening. I wasn't his mother…and we just met, nagging him just didn't seem like a good thing for our budding relationship as pals.

"Most likely going to town to find a laundry mat and then doing some scavenging. I did come here to find out about my history."

"You know if you ask Hilde she'll do your laundry for you. It's what they do here Duo."

"Oh, how do I let her know?"

"That's easy. In the drawer near your bed are door signs. Take out the one that says pick up laundry and put it out for them to see then set the clothes you want cleaned on the stool near the door. It's quite a simple and effective system." I nodded, taking the instructions in. Hey if I don't have to spend much money…if any, then all the better. I really don't have anymore money to my name except what I brought with me. And let me tell you something…if I had to spend what money I did bring on laundry I would only have about forty dollars left when I got home. Yep, that's how sad I am. I spent a fortune on this trip to understand why I wasn't wanted as a child. I wasn't going to pass up the chance of not finding out why.

"Thanks Quatre. That helps." Quatre and Daniel left for their own rooms, their own lives, Quatre giving me a look I didn't quite understand before he told me to meet me tomorrow evening before supper in the conservatory. Daniel flashed one of his winning smiles, waving that he'd see me later. Something about his quietness and his lack of wanting to see us during the day was…odd.

In my room I took a quick wash over the sink, wetting a terry cloth and scrubbing until I thought I smelled satisfactory. I was too tired to get my hair all wet…and way too tired to try and detangle it after that. My mind was on automatic as I shut the lights out. As little as I did that day, I felt drained. Never in my life have I ever felt the need to sleep as much as I did here. Back home, if that's what you want to call it, I don't know how many times I actually wanted to sleep, let alone tried. I felt alone and bored with the idea of letting my body take a rest when I knew it had no right to.

But as soon as I fell down on the covers, head pillowed on the pillow, I knew I felt oddly at home…at rest within my own mind. Maybe Quatre was right that this castle was loud in its history but it felt comforting to know it had a history to talk about. A meaningful one at that. With that thought in mind I drifted off to sleep, a soft breeze from the balcony breathed over my bare chest…a balcony I don't ever remember opening that night…

A/n: Now I'm spoiling all of you cause I wanted to space out the chapters. I've been working on this story for years so part of it was complete but part of it's not. The next three chapters are done but I think I'm going to wait a while and tweak them for you guys. Enjoy.


	7. Small Town Visit

**Sacrificed During a Violet Moon**

**Description:** Duo's POV, except for beginning part. Duo, ever since he was a little baby, never knew his family. He was left to an orphanage in the city without anything but the clothes he wore and the necklace around his neck, something that speaks of his mysterious and painful past. Yet, when after almost 18 years of his life he has to return back home, he never expected it to be a repetition of things he never remembered in the first place of when he was just a baby, chosen as the sacrifice of the violet moon and a past come back to haunt him.

**Pairing's: **1+2/1x2 (if you haven't noticed I abhor 2x1 and you will never see me with anything relating to it, sorry to all those fans who do, my best friend for example), 3+4/possibly 3x4 (I most likely won't, since I believe that their relationship works best if subtle hints are dropped from the sky), 13+6+5/possibly 13x6x5 in future, 13x5 mention in past but 6x5 in past (this has become my most favorite paring next to 1x2). As I am on Fanfiction all MA material will be on my website in livejournal.

**Rating:** AU, Yaoi, in the beginning it is rated pg13, rated R later, servitude, seducing of the obscured devil and a sacrifice for power. So if you don't agree with these terms then I don't know why the hell you're here. Ok have fun.

Chap 7: Small Town Visit

"_She who lies halved beside me—she and I once watched the bees, dreamers not yet dipped into the acids of the craving for anything, not yet burned down into flies, sucking the blossom-dust from the pear-tree in spring,"_

It was dark when I opened my eyes. Someone was holding me, whispering words I just couldn't understand. Their touch was warm, evoking within me life I thought I had killed oh so long ago. A touch upon my heart, upon my brow, my numb lips, my wrist and my thigh…all of them left me trembling and wanting. My entire body was alive within their touch, their warm calloused hands. I wanted to open my eyes. I wanted to call out and ask who they were…who I was. Because I knew that I didn't know who I was. As funny as it sounds…'I' felt like the stranger, not those knowing hands.

My world was growing lighter. The edges of my vision were sparking. Drawing my attention to either side of me, hoping to catch a glimpse of this bliss. A shadowy figure, growing lighter and darker at the same time. It was like watching TV with no reception, all you saw was snow. Their breath was my breath, their heart beat was my heart beat…I felt alive within them…I felt in love…

Lips, soft and moist were upon me now, then the tip of a hot tongue. It ran sinuous trails down my body trailing up from my legs to my neck. I moaned silently, unable to voice my pleasure. The tongue became hungrier as it bathed my throat and shoulders, their hot breath cooling the moisture once they stopped. I could feel myself shivering, hands gripping the sheets in fists beneath me. Suddenly sharp teeth sunk into the sensitive tendon between his neck and shoulder. I heard myself gasp, the first real sound in all that void darkness.

They were getting more desperate in their passion. Soft fingertips glided down the side of my cheek. I shut my eyes, my body trembling uncontrollably under their touch. I heard them chuckle, a deep forbidden sound no human has ever made so close to me before. I could feel the vibrations through his chest. They were laughing at me? Why, what had I done wrong? I wasn't new to sex that was for sure.

But suddenly they stopped with a grunt, fingers digging deep into my side, as they rubbed their cheek against my own. Hot breath fanning my ear almost flirtatiously. I hesitated briefly as I brought my own hands up to the others strong shoulders. They grunted again, moving my hands further up and into their short hair.

Finally their mouth, settled upon my own, opening my lips easily with their conniving tongue, twining it with my own. It was too hot. My skin was on fire where their hands gripped me. Our bodies were close, rocking into each others in a passion filled daze. The strength of this person was almost frightening. Their mouth was harsh and full of promise as if we stopped kissing the world would crumble down around us.

My vision cleared then. The world came back and before I lost sight I saw them…two blue eyes glowing like a cats in the night and a loving smile I knew was deadly…deadlier then death ever could be. I was doomed…the veins within me spoke of my doom for centuries to come.

I could feel my eyes opening…I could see the room around me; feel the strong gust of wind across my sweat stricken flesh. My breath was coming fast…so fast it seemed to burn my lungs and constrict my throat. It felt real…so real. I brought up one of my hands, rubbing water from my eyes that I knew to be tears and sweat. I was sitting up. I don't know how I got there but I was. A nightmare…no, it wasn't a bad dream. I looked down and gasped. No it was far from a bad dream if it could produce that effect from my body…it was therefore categorized as a good dream.

Soon my heart slowed, my body relaxed and I was able to ease myself back down to the bed. The sun was barely visible outside my window. Its yellow rays painting the sky with pastel green's and blues. I couldn't go back to sleep after that, I knew I never would. Dreams are places where your mind gets rid of useless information from the day…but this dream didn't fit with the grand scheme of things. Sighing, I pulled my right hand out from under the pillow, breath once again caught in my throat at what my hand now grasped. The journal…I left it under my pillow…

Oddly enough, I couldn't help but think that this journal caused my dream. And I know it sounds even weirder but I could have sworn those blue eyes hidden under that messy mop of hair and that smile…belonged to Heero. I pushed the covers away from me, scrambling out of bed. I placed the book in my nightstand under a ratty copy of one of my favorite books I had stolen from the local library, The Quartered Sea. Then I quickly pursued the tag for the laundry Quatre had mentioned before. I don't know why I was on hyper drive but my body agreed with my mind that I just needed to get out of there.

The room smelled of the dream…smelled of my anxiety. I got dressed in my clothes from last night's dinner. The only clean ones I had at the moment, which consisted of a white shirt, a black vest and black trousers. I considered it the fanciest things I ever owned. The shirt and vest I got out of a second hand store. Hey I was broke at the time and needed clothes to wear to work. Cheapest place I could buy clothes. The pants, well lets just say I had a five finger discount at one of the outlet stores in my neighborhood.

Once I re-braided my hair I was out the door with my satchel bouncing along on my thigh. I waved at the elderly couple who were making their way to the dinning room for breakfast before darting out the door. To my luck Wufei was stationed in his little alcove by the gate. The gatehouse was actually roomy and refurbished with a chair and table where the Chinese man was reading a book.

"Hey Wufei, mind opening the gate for me?" He looked up, eyes distrustful. I don't know what it was about me that he didn't like but…I was going to find out sooner rather then later. Putting my trip on hold for a microsecond I glared back, hands planted on my hips. "Alright, out with it. What is it about me that you hate so much?" I kept the smart ass comments to myself for the time being, so curious about why I was on Wufei's hate list.

He was startled at first but came back around, eyes once again narrowed. "What makes you think I hate you…I barely know you?"

"That's what I want to know. Since we have barely seen each other two times, I have some how gotten on your nerves. It annoys the hell out of me to know that someone hates me and doesn't even know me. If you want to hate me, get to know me first…that's the way it should be. Now open the door." Yeah, now I was angry at him but who the hell did he think he was. No one had the right to hate someone on first glance. And it would have been descent of him to let me know what I did wrong. That would be the polite thing to do but he just continued skirting the issue.

He got up, keys jangling from his grip… So apparently he wasn't going to tell me why. He slowly opened the lock, pulling the chains free from the gate. Just as I was storming past him he spoke quietly, voice monotone. "I don't hate you…I don't know you." With that he closed the gates in my face, locked them up once more and left…all with out looking at me.

Maybe he was just…shy. Maybe he could only like people he really knew…odd. I'll have to pursue the subject with him latter. Through the long trek to town I thought on what Wufei said. Considering my options. So if get to know him maybe he'll relax around me enough not to hate me. So I should pester him…that usually works. Heck it worked on my next door neighbor Mrs. Applebom. She was such a tight ass, always gripping about her rose bush. One day I noticed how dry the roses were and watered them from my window up above. The bad thing was, she had come out to do the exact same thing. Let's just say I watered them both and she never gave me time to explain. But later that week she knocked on my door, shoved a paper plate of chocolate chip cookies into my hands and weebled to the elevator. I took it as a sign that she understood me and from then on, I kept my music to a more tolerable level and didn't take it upon myself to water her plants from my balcony.

"Alright then, all I have to do is do something kind…or thoughtful for Wufei and keep at it. I might as well make as many…friends slash acquaintances as I can while I'm here. Who knows I might even have a world record." Finally the woods ended and the path continued straight on towards town. The small houses were actually pretty busy at this time of morning. Mothers or grandmothers were out and about putting wet clothes on the line to dry, while husbands or fathers kissed their wives and children on the foreheads and head off to work.

My stomach growled then, just as I smelled the wonderful aroma of freshly baked goodies from the local sweet shop. Yep, not the best thing for breakfast but I knew they had to at least have muffins. So I skipped into the shop, glad that it was open, and smiled at the sweet old lady behind the counter placing treats into the window display underneath. It was like a dream come true. The shelves were full of treats made to rot teeth and make one portlier then they ever should be. But luck would have it there were muffins in that window…plus my favorite of all, the chocolate chip muffin with what seemed like huge granules of sugar on top.

"What can I do for you this early in the morning young man?" Her voice was weak, wobbling a little, like most of the elderly. But it was deep…a reflection of how her former beautiful self. And I knew she was once magnificent, now ravaged by the winds of time. Her hair was long like my own, braided intricately down her back. Wisps of gray and white hairs framing her long face.

"Oh, I just thought I smelled heaven and decided to come a knocking. Those muffins right there look particularly fabulous. Mind if I buy one?" She smiled, chiding me for my sweet tooth.

"Growing men like you should be eating healthy in the morning. But who am I to tell my customers what to buy." She took the muffin out of the case and I paid my pocket breaking amount of a $1.95. One thing about back water places like this, most of the restaurants were pretty easy on the prices…especially anything involving eggs, milk and grain.

"So, how's the business been going? I'm just visiting so…" I trailed off, not really knowing how to ask my questions. Hell I didn't even know what those questions were.

"Good, not as good as it usually is but Halloween is just around the corner. So you're new here in town. Guess you're up at Lowe manor since I have yet to see you around here."

"You guess right there. So um, do you know where I might be able to locate…I don't know, a record hall of some sort…library?" I was on a limb. Not knowing where to start and not knowing where I'd end up.

"Let's see, the library where we do keep our town records is down the road here. It'll be right next to the mayor's office I do believe. I must say…I haven't been there in such a long time." She went back to putting what seemed to be fudge into the window, smiling gently and humming. "Oh, and do remember to come to our fall celebration. It's in a couple of days now. I don't know if you'll enjoy the children games during the afternoon but there is an evening party for the grownups young man."

"Well, thanks for the muffin…and the information. I'm sure I'll see you soon then. Wouldn't want to miss a party for Halloween." I bid her fair well, and left the store, heart lightening at the tiny bell tinkling above the door as I opened it. The weather was crisp, fall in the air. The farmers should be down collecting their crops and now that she reminded me of what month it actually was, I began to notice the little touches all around me. Such as pumpkins, painted and carved in shop windows or out on benches. Dried cornstalks stood next to door ways and of course I know noticed the obvious Halloween colors of black and orange in window displays.

Children seemed happier even though they still had to go to school, and the atmosphere just spoke of holiday cheer. Because once Halloween was over it was only so long until Thanksgiving and Christmas rolled around. I couldn't help but wonder what Telford did during those holidays and if I'd ever know.

I made my way across the street and towards the mayor's office. A place no one could not pass up even if they wanted to. It was the center of town square, situated behind the statue of the founding father of Telford…most likely a Lowe from the looks of the statue. Right next to the Mayor's office was the place I was searching for…the library, a quant place that seemed over shadowed by the power of the white building next door. I wonder if the mayor is good to these people…or if he's jacked up on power like all the other hunger politicians out there. Ready to sacrifice everything for just that little amount of supremacy never granted to them before.

The library steps were riddled with weeds, concrete old enough to crumble away around the edges. The door was glass pain, from top to bottom, and the door knob was at once a rich gold from the look of things but when I turned it most of the gold paint flecked off onto my hand, a mockery of stars on my pale flesh. I rubbed my hands together, taking in the building inside. It seemed even smaller then the outside portrayed and there were together only a handful of people between its minimal shelves.

I walked up to the librarian…the usual type with the dowdy clothes, small reading glasses and taut buns, which pulled their wrinkled faces up in a parody of plastic surgery.

"Hi, um, I'm looking for records of Telford. People that lived here in the past…" she stared at me for a second, her large dirty brown eyes seemed buggy behind the heavy prescription.

"Yes. Back room, down that row. You can't miss it…don't ruin anything." With that she shoved me a pair of keys and went back to…reading? How interesting. The people that I did pass were what I would consider…slackers. They weren't reading…well two of the five I passed were but the other three were to my astonishment, just sitting and sharing a smoke. Marijuana from the smell of it. Never thought Telford was the town for that type.

I found the back room easily enough. Unlocking the door proved to be a problem since the key seemed rusted over. But finally after scuffling with it for ten minutes it screeched open, causing the librarian from the front to issue an ear splitting shushing sound. I waved away the clouds of dust; thank god the light bulb was still functioning. The door closed with another squeak but I didn't pay much attention to it. It was their fault for not oiling the damn thing.

Inside was a scholar's worst nightmare. Dust and cobwebs decorated the chair and the desk. Walls on all sides were littered with file cabinets in stages of cleanliness and disarray. Thank god they were at least labeled yearly then monthly. I quickly searched out the year I was born pulling out a file or two of newspapers and set to work.

All through out my searches I kept a tight grip on my cross hoping I'd stumble upon something, anything to help me regain a lost side of my life. The two folders proved worthless. Each providing information on useless things such as, guess who died, crops are going well, and our annual picnic is now canceled. I at least thought that in the birth announcements I'd find something but nothing jumped out at me. I put the folders back and worked forward, sighing after about an hour of dust coated fun. The only thing I found interesting was the fact that a woman was found in 1988 dead in the river near Telford. Nothing was put into finding the killer since all traces of foul play were long gone except that her belly had been slashed open and she had no family what's so ever. Her name was unknown, but was known as the town's nut job…a witch.

I was disheartened when they didn't state her name but left it at that. When nothing came up in the years between my birth and now I decided to go backwards. I was actually kind of glad that there weren't that many papers the further I got back. I would have to kill myself if there was a paper every month for a year but it appeared that many issues were lost, misplaced or never printed. Telford was a small town; no one really would care if part of their history was misplaced. They had their textbooks. Their old folk who passed along tall tales during the night to the children.

Nearing the end of the line and thoroughly exhausted I learned that not only was Telford boring, it was equally mysterious. Nothing added up. One year the crops were flourishing but then the next they all died even though there was an abundance of water. It looked as if the crops hadn't taken in any of the nourishment. Then there was the fact that at least once every year there was one murder and one murder only. How disturbing is that. In the city there are a billion murders every year, the numbers fluctuating. But no, here in Telford there's just one murder every year. Got to say, that count needs to be added into the worlds record book.

Then during the winter season it seemed that the town held one day aside to mourn the death Heero Yuy. They set up a funeral pyre and burned any memorabilia they thought he would enjoy in the after life. Strange…

Finally, I got to the year labeled, 1800's misc. How odd is it that they didn't know the exact year. Inside I found only one folder. In it was random papers but the one I found interesting was an old, yellow and decrepit newspaper with Heero's name on it. On the yellowed front page was running ink forming the title, Lowe Heir Murdered. Gasping I hurried back to the table, heart beating fast. So, yeah I was disappointed that I couldn't find anything about my past…so yeah I was going to go ask through the town if there was any other place where I could figure it all out but at that moment I was stuck…enraptured by this first hand account on Heero Yuy's murder and Varelet's death.

I read through the distorted ink, angry that most of it was obliterated. From what I could gather though was that the towns people had been angry that their one preferred prince was dead all because of Varelet. Varelet was the only one present and he knew nothing, or stated that he didn't. They had been angered and upon Lowe's orders, set a pyre and burned him alive, yelling at him that he was a witch that had put Heero under his spell. Later, most regretted that decision, for they had known how wonderful Heero and Varelet acted around one another…that if they thought more clearly they could have used him for information on how to find his accomplices or the real killers. There had been sighting's of the two of them in town…and according to the newspaper; it was during those times that Heero had really smiled.

That was the only part of the paper that had been saved, just that one sheaf. Maybe that was all that was ever made of the issue. Who knows? Wiping away an errant tear…which I told myself was from the dust. I mean, come on, I've been sitting here for hours. Dust gets to you!

I flipped through the other papers in the miscellaneous folder, astonished that the number of deaths in Telford were more fluctuating before the Lowe incident. Accidents involving tavern brawls, or getting lost in the woods and getting robbed then killed. Rapes, diseases…it was a regular party of deaths back then. Most of them came with murder attached to them. Even the disease victims seemed to have been murdered. One, an old man who was a victim of purple spots seemed to have contrived the disease from a man who stabbed him with a dirty knife.

Scratching my head I put the newspapers back and rubbed my eyes again. They were irritated…I needed to get out of there. I opened the door again, and locked it up with the rusty key. Once I got back up to the front the librarian snatched the keys from me and gave me a distrustful look. What ever, I thought as I scrambled back outside.

The sun was hidden behind full dark gray clouds…rain then. Might as well start back before I get poured on. Just what I need when I have no clothes. I made my way down the steps, mind still whirling around the fact that they believed Varelet a witch. I had forgotten how superstitious people were back then. But still…

Just as I was passing the statue the door to the Mayor's office opened and a young man stepped out, closely followed by another man who was balding on top but still managed to grow a beard and a mustache never the less. Funny that.

"Son, please reconsider Mrs. Peacecrafts offer…or even that fine gentlemen… This house has been holding us down for far too long. You too never wanted to inherit it from me…what's the change now?" The man seemed desperate, hands ringing at his sides. The man was a true mess; his clothes rumpled as if slept in and there were dark circles under his reddened eyes. "Please reconsider."

"Now father, don't fret. I know what I'm doing. The manor has been in our hands for such a long time now. I'm not about to let all of it slip away from us. You take care of what 'you' need to do and I'll take care of what 'I' need to do." With that he walked away from the cringing older man. Then it hit me, this must be the mayor and his son that that lady told me about on my first day here. What was the name…oh yeah, Mr. Callaway and Adrian Callaway. For the first time I saw the front of Adrian Callaway and didn't see anything about him that would be considered ugly in Relena's eyes…but then it wasn't looks was it…it was money and power.

He was about average height. About 5'8 or so. His hair was a dusky red, long enough for him to pull his fingers through. He had a wining smile, one I'm sure he used often enough on the ladies of this small village for a little snookie late at night. But he was definitely a lady killer the way that looks went. He looked up then, surprise a lighting his features before he grinned nodded at me and got into his car. He took off, a roar down the quiet street. His eyes were red…

A/N: This is one of those informative chapters that you just have to get out of the way for the story to come together but I promise that you'll all be satisfied with the way things are going in about four chapters at the most.


	8. Chef Trowa

**Sacrificed During a Violet Moon**

**Description:** Duo's POV, except for beginning part. Duo, ever since he was a little baby, never knew his family. He was left to an orphanage in the city without anything but the clothes he wore and the necklace around his neck, something that speaks of his mysterious and painful past. Yet, when after almost 18 years of his life he has to return back home, he never expected it to be a repetition of things he never remembered in the first place of when he was just a baby, chosen as the sacrifice of the violet moon and a past come back to haunt him.

**Pairing's: **1+2/1x2 (if you haven't noticed I abhor 2x1 and you will never see me with anything relating to it, sorry to all those fans who do, my best friend for example), 3+4/possibly 3x4 (I most likely won't, since I believe that their relationship works best if subtle hints are dropped from the sky), 13+6+5/possibly 13x6x5 in future, 13x5 mention in past but 6x5 in past (this has become my most favorite paring next to 1x2). As I am on Fanfiction all MA material will be on my website in livejournal.

**Rating:** AU, Yaoi, in the beginning it is rated pg13, rated R later, servitude, seducing of the obscured devil and a sacrifice for power. So if you don't agree with these terms then I don't know why the hell you're here. Ok have fun.

**Warning:** If you don't know by now listen carefully: Men with Men…having sex or liking/loving the same sex!

**Disclaimer:** I don't own any of the character's or their personality's (all though I could play a good Duo) any way, you've heard it all so I'll just fast forward. Bla…bla…bla, bla, bla, blabber, blue…beluga. Ok you all get it. NO suing, have no money, saving every penny for the anime convention and birthday's. Not worth your time.

Chap 8: Chef Trowa

"_we two lay out together under the tree, on earth, beside our empty clothes, our bodies opened to the sky floated down and the bees glittered in the blossoms and the bodies of our hearts opened under the knowledge of tree, on the grass of the knowledge of graves, and among the flowers of the flowers."_

As soon as I got Wufei to open the gate and trudged up the courtyard to the front door, the rain hit. Luckily the amount that did get me would dry in a matter of minutes…Wufei however…

I smiled as the steaming China man stomped through the front door a minute later. His clothes stuck to his oddly chiseled form and his black hair was in complete disarray. I couldn't hide my chuckle and he glared at me angrily before stomping to his room. I could have sworn I saw Mr. Kushrenada follow.

A chime, deep and resonating, filled the lobby announcing the noon hour. I couldn't believe I had been gone that long. Lunch was probably just starting but I didn't feel like joining the others, instead I took the narrow hallway to the kitchen, humming over the crash of pots and pans and the small chatter from the dinning room.

I pushed the door open, taking in the rich smells. I smiled and nodded towards the many assistants bustling about. "Hey, how are you guys doing back here?" For a moment they just stared, blinking like giant bugs. "Don't get many visitors? Alright well don't mind me." I walked over to a chair situated near the door to the dinning room. Soon they went back to work, glancing over at me, unsure of what to do. I knew that once someone in charge saw me there they'd kick me out but I just too curious.

"Excuse me?" I looked up and saw Trowa, a smile upon his face. "Quatre has been looking for you."

"Yes, and I just wanted to see how things worked back here. Your people don't get many visitors from the guests I take it? If you want me to scoot I will just let me know." I stood up, helping one of the ladies with an arm full of dishes. She thanked me profusely as I took them to the sink, Trowa trailing behind us.

"No, not many. But then again, it's not really all that fascinating. You can stay or leave." He was leaning against the counter, eyes closed. His white chef uniform stained with grease and red discolorations.

"So what did the mighty chef of Lowe Manor cook up today?"

He chuckled, pushing off the counter. "If you were there, then you would have figured that out." He picked up a frying pan, and brought it over to me. "It's something I think you'd have liked."

"What do you mean? I just met you." He was a confusing man…a tall man…but still confusing. He was also not a man of many words.

"Try it."

Inhaling deeply I looked down at the pan and snagged what appeared to be a sausage of some kind. I popped it into my mouth chewing thoughtfully. Trowa seemed to be waiting for my opinion. "Well?"

"Hmm…" I chewed slower, savoring the full bodied spices and juices that rain down my throat. "What is it?" I knew what hot dogs were and trust me, this wasn't some mix and match meat specimen from the side of the road. Those things are dangerous in the city.

"Pork link stuffed with rosemary and garlic." He offered me more and I gladly took the pan from him, knowing full well the servants were getting an eyeful of my lack of manners. So I didn't come from a family that ate properly…its just food…it goes in one way and comes out the other way. Gross I know, but it's the hard truth. "It's basted in a butter-garlic sauce and sautéed in a Norwegian vintage…Like it?"

"Yeah…Actually it kind of tastes like…pork, but 'a lot' better, don't get me wrong here." Trowa smiled, clearly not offended.

"Quatre said that you would like it. Excuse me…I have a lot to clean up and get ready for dinner." With that Trowa left, leaving me alone with the left over wieners. For such a classy meal it sure looked simple…but tasted good… I was spoiling myself here. Once I got back home to my shit hole life…or a nonexistent one, I'd be eating once a day from microwavable dinners on a 10 for 10 sale. And trust me…from experience the damn things deserve to be thrown away not eaten.

Finished I carried it over to the sink, being scolded by an angry looking man with a mustache and a soapy sponge. Outside the kitchen the air was less stifling… a little more fresh. I like the smell of food but after a meal you just need to get away. So I had a new found respect for the kitchen staff. Especially since that's all they're around, all day…food and sanitizers.

Sighing I wandered the hallways, letting my feet carry me to wherever they could. Curiosity got the better of me and I headed up towards the towers, wondering if all of them were locked or if it was just the one Mr. Kushrenada had mentioned. I admired the paintings, tapestries and old statutes littering the corridors, feeling an odd kind of nostalgia overwhelm me. This place, although, not my home…felt soothing on the senses.

The higher I went the more spectacular the view became outside the many windows I passed. I don't know why people insist on living in crowded cities where air is lacking and violence is as plenty as the population. Although I'm one of those people so I guess…well, what does that make me? Stupid?

I reached the end of the long trek, a large wooden door; secured on the right side with large bolts the size of my thumb. Automatically I reached out gripping the handle and grunted with effort when it wouldn't budge. I placed my foot on the wall, trying to get a certain amount of leverage while I pulled again. But nothing… "I guess this is the one that's locked." Sighing I turned back around, my curiosity sensors on overload. What was behind that door that was so important that it needed to be locked? Surely cleaning supplies weren't that important…at least not as important as a library full of historical manuscripts and the like?

A/N: Just a teaser for now…I still have a lot of things that need to get done around here sorry guys.


	9. Blue Flame

**Sacrificed During a Violet Moon**

**Rating:** AU, Yaoi, in the beginning it is rated pg13, rated R later, servitude, seducing of the obscured devil and a sacrifice for power. So if you don't agree with these terms then I don't know why the hell you're here. Ok have fun.

**Warning:** If you don't know by now listen carefully: Men with Men…having sex or liking/loving the same sex!

**Disclaimer:** I don't own any of the character's or their personality's (all though I could play a good Duo) any way, you've heard it all so I'll just fast forward. Bla…bla…bla, bla, bla, blabber, blue…beluga. Ok you all get it. NO suing, have no money, saving every penny for the anime convention and birthday's. Not worth your time.

Chap 9: The Blue Flame

"_And the brain kept blossoming all through the body, until the bones themselves could think, and the genitals sent out wave and wave of holy desire until even the dead brain cells surged and fell in god like, androgynous fantasies—and I understood the unicorn's phallus could have risen, after all, directly out of thought itself."_

Of course when my foster mother, Helen, did recite this poem she left out this entire section. Thought I wouldn't figure it out she did. Well, the internet is a beautiful place.

After the incident with the tower door, I roamed around the castle for god knows how long. I took in all the strange and exotic passage ways, marveling at the architecture, the vaulted ceilings, and the sculptures. There was one door, which led to something quite…disturbing. Before me was a trench of some kind, separating the door from the other end of the hall. But what was really odd were the stepping stone books floating on the water's surface. I really couldn't bring myself to continue. And before I knew it I was running back towards the main level, already late for my impromptu meeting with Quatre. He was waiting in the back of the conservatory, sun drenching his aquiline features, as he sipped from a fragile china cup.

"You're late Duo. I was beginning to wonder if you'd come at all." He set the cup down, a ghost of a smile on his face.

"No, I'm sorry; I just got a little sidetracked is all. Found a…couple of scary books…" I plopped down in one of the iron work chairs, not at all comfortable mind you. "So, what was it you wanted to talk about this fine afternoon?"

"Well, for one did you find what you wanted in town?" I picked up one of the cups in front of me, sniffing the bitter tea it held. I'm not really a tea drinker; unless it has a lot of sugar and or honey…same goes with my coffee. But I instead nibbled on the platter of sweets in front of me…more then hungry after my full day.

"Um, sort of. I mean, I really didn't find what I wanted but what can you do? It was worth a try. But um, Quatre, you do know a lot about Telfords history an all right?"

He nodded, taking a bite out of the candied tangerine.

"Good, well, there was this story I found in the towns records…a newspaper clipping of a woman. No one knew her name or her family, but they considered her a witch. Her body was found in a river, slashed open…no one continued with the search. As if they didn't care."

"Duo, you must know that back then, there were so many murders without rhyme or reason. No one could put the pieces together to find the killer only because that technology was limited. You could be living right next to a murderer and you wouldn't notice. That's how it was back then. Why do you ask?" Why did I ask? Good question. It was just such an odd short clipping, as if they just through it in to rap up a days' work. No one's life should be treated so callously.

"But the thing is it wasn't that long ago Quatre."

"What do you mean? How long ago was it?" I paused, thinking in my head for the exact date.

"Well, I estimate it was about 17 years ago…roughly. I know we weren't that technologically advanced but I know we had ways of finding killers through meager evidence and problem solving…so why was it no one tried?"

Quatre sighed, thinking hard as he dabbed at his mouth delicately. The man was such a perfectionist. Not one hair and clothing article was out of place and god forbid if there was a stain. "Let's see, I thought you were talking about the time when the Lowe's were still in power…pardon me. Um, well, it could have been that there was no evidence…that because she had no family and was considered…crazy if you will; that there really wasn't a rush on the case. There are…sorry to say this…more important cases then a mysterious killing of an unknown woman."

"Yeah, I guess your right. I was just curious and all. Oh, by the way, I found the clipping of Heero and Varelet's accident."

"Yes, I've read that one." Quatre nodded again, staring at me as if I was going to continue…ok so I was. He knows me too good for a man I just met.

"There was one other thing I found odd. All the killings or murders if you will, after the Lowe incident…were all at a set number. As if there were quotas to fill or something. But before the incident the numbers fluctuated a great deal. Don't you find that odd?"

I watched as Quatre gazed out the conservatory windows, lost in thought. I took the moment to glance about my self. The flowers and trees were ending their blooms, the fall season eating away at their youth. The entire room was made of glass, even the ceiling high above trimmed with sparkling gold fixtures. There were dirt paths like the one I took to find Quatre leading in many random directions… It was all so much like a secret garden. I couldn't imagine what it had looked like in its prime…back then when it was built for the first time.

Under a few trees nearby were bushes sprouting brilliant sapphire buds, in various stages of bloom. Inside the bloom was a deep rich orange stamens, streaking its blue counterpart. "Hey Duo?"

"Yes?" I looked away, curiosity still lingering about the strange flower.

"I want you to know something. But don't interrupt me okay?" He paused, waiting for me to nod questioningly back. "This is going to sound crazy to you…this is going to be strange and new…something I'm sure you won't understand at first but hear me out. I've lived in these parts for most of my life and sometimes I tend to forget that we're still strangers to our own county. We don't know its history as well as we should. Our books, our records are as vague as you your self have found out. It's like our ancestors didn't want the beginning recorded…didn't want the future to understand. Like they didn't want to meddle in the past most likely out of fear of repeating it.

God, I can remember the times during school when we learned about the origins of New York City and Paris. I wondered from that point on why we couldn't know…why we were left in a gray haze about our life…our history. Yes I don't live in Telford…but I do live close by…close enough to know that this entire county is like the Bermuda triangle. Except people don't disappear…its history that does. The only thing that has stayed with Telford as long as it has is the Lowe's. Tall tales don't exist here." He paused, his entire body now leaning over the iron table. His eyes were intense…nothing like the sweet aquamarine of the boy I met outside those gates a few days ago. What happened to that boy I thought I knew?

"Still with me here? Understand that we grasp hold of the Lowe manor because it's all we have. Buildings and a dead man child." He leaned back in his seat, chest heaving heavily once. "Why did you come here Duo? You believe your family was from here? Is that all, is that what really brought you?"

"Quatre, I told you. I know my mother was here. I have a picture. A picture speaks more then words do…well, sometimes. I won't go into the time when…"

"Duo, please stay on track. I guess I really can't tell you anymore." Once again he looked outside the vast windows, his hand blindly reaching for the tea cup.

"What do you mean you 'can't' tell me more?"

"Just what I said…I guess. Duo, I liked meeting you. You're so full of life…more so then I…then I've ever thought a person could contain. Thank you for a wonderful stay."

His words cut my mouth off from sprouting modest thanks and gracious well wishes in return. We're programmed from infancy; it seems, to be as polite as possible. It's hard to escape it. But my brain caught the words, rearranging them to fit inside my head like a giant puzzle of gargantuan proportions. "Are you leaving?" He couldn't leave now. He just got here, and what was I going to do without Quatre to hang about with. Yeah, I know I just met him and there was still Daniel to hang out with and Wufei to play with. I knew from the moment I saw him that I could have some fun. But all that would be cut short if Quatre were to leave.

"I'm sorry Duo, but I need to get some work done unfortunately. Can't stop the entire world for measly vacations can we? But we are still on for tonight, right? I'll pick you up and show you how fun Telford can be. So don't fall asleep on me." He got up, not waiting for me to answer back, leaving the tea set to be picked up later I assumed.

"Well that was an episode from the Twilight Zone I haven't seen yet." Sighing I stood up feeling lost all of a sudden. I felt drowsy, as if I hadn't slept in a few days. I know the feeling quite well too. One time my landlord decided I needed to pay my rent a little earlier then usual because gas prices were going up and he had bills to pay and what not. Let's just say I took as many day and night shifts as I could until I got my pay check…which was eaten up gladly by Mr. Katakana…which then left me broke with no money for food. An endless cycle of torture that we all just continue to run, like lab mice. That's my theory.

My eyes were heavy, weighing more then I've ever considered before. So, with that in mind, my body took up the thought that I needed more sleep and that going to my bedroom was a good idea. It was like I was locked out. No control over the ship known as Duo Maxwell the first. I was a prisoner to…nothing but the idea that I needed more sleep.

The walls passed by in a blur, faces I didn't know looked questioningly at me as I passed them, and I could have sworn I heard someone calling my name, but I just kept walking. Then, suddenly, I felt the most peculiar sensation of cold water hitting my face. But I was dry and standing in the middle of my room. Blinking away what felt like hard sand I walked over to my window and looked out at the sky. It was a dusky grey; the sun had already set…but how?

Sighing I just brushed it off as a fluke and pulled off my clothes. I needed a bath…some type of odor I didn't want to think about was emanating from certain under regions. The tap made a horrendous squeal as I let the water run. Water gushing out of the copper faucet. Watching the tub fill I realized that I could use this time to finish reading Heero's journal slash sketchbook.

I ran back to my bed and dug underneath the many pillows until I found it again. It was cold to the touch, and I reverently took it with me to the bathroom. A thought of ruining it by accidentally dropping it into the water stopped me momentarily but I took into mind that I wasn't a klutz and that it would be fine.

Draping a few towels on the ledge of the tub and lighting the few candles I took in the feel of what it would have felt like a long time ago. Except for the fact that they didn't have indoor plumbing and that they'd have to fill the tub manually with stove heated water. Sighing I turned off the faucet and slipped into the steaming water, with my hair floating on the surface all around me. It'd be a bitch to fight the knots out but I, for once, couldn't care about one of my most prized possessions.

I gingerly flipped through the pages, rereading the two passages and looking more closely at the pictures as I soaped away the day's events. Drying my hands I flipped over onto my side and rested my chin on the edge of the tub. I was back at the picture of Varelet…in the garden. It had to be him. If this was Heero's book then this youth was…had to of been his lover. I flipped over to the next page, my heart beating faster then a hummingbird's it seemed. Yet what I saw was more then I expected. A mirror…my face looking up at me through the dusty pages of time.

Gasping I slipped my finger down the edge of the book, yelping as a long bead of blood stained the edges. I pushed the book away from me, trembling as I watched the blood drip to the soapy water. There was a knock then, jolting me out of my examination. I don't understand to this day why I forgot so quickly about that moment…in that moment. It was as if I had suppressed it…suppressed that drawing for only a second.

Well, I got out of the tub, grabbing a soft black robe to throw on as I walked to the door. On the opposite side, was Hilde, yawning and looking the worse for wear. "Ya know, just for future reference, when someone calls to you in the hallway it's nice to answer back. Jeez did I get a crack down on me for bellowing at a guest. Had to scrub the floors over in the pink wing until they shinned. Nice punishment huh? Anyway, I just wanted to tell ya that was rude and to bid you a good night sir. See ya bright and early tomorrow!" with that she skipped away.

I closed the door, leaning on it as I tried to piece together all she had said to me. Then it clicked…so someone had yelled to me in the hall earlier, I thought, as I made my way back to the bathroom. But I stopped and glared at the journal on the floor. It had to be a mistake, just a trick of the lighting. I picked it up and set it on the counter, draining the tub and drying my hair.

Back in my room I placed the book on my bed, changing into a pair of blue flannel bottoms and a navy t-shirt. Grabbing a brush and a rubber band I headed for my balcony, putting my hair into place for the night. I wasn't so stupid as to sleep with it wet and un-brushed. Tried that once. I'll never forget the morning after when my entire head was one big tangle. The night was cool though, which made me happy that I had brought warm clothes with me after all. The moon was shinning bright, high in the sky. I've always responded well to the night, especially the moon and the stars. But tonight, it felt different. It looked different.

The moon was larger then I'd ever seen it and its color was off…it seemed less white and more radiant violet. Maybe it was the trick of the suns rays off the planets oceans…who knows. I let my hands leave my hair, my left occupied with my brush but the other I trailed across the moon, as if I could just stand on my toes and touch it. Feel its texture…was it smooth or rough? Was it really made out of cheese like everyone said it was? Was the cheese a good one or a smelly one?

I laughed then, suddenly remembering a book I had read in the library once. It was called The Stinky Cheese and Tales….or something along those lines. It had different fun spins on fairy tales. Making fun of them in odd ways. I respond well to politically correct fables. Don't ask me why.

Inside, I put my brush away and for the longest time I just stood at the foot of my bed and stared at the journal. "It wasn't you. God, you need to stop this obsession." I felt cheated…by my self. I came here to find me and instead I was chasing after a legend. A legend that the town seemed to feed on.

Plopping down on the bed, I grabbed the book and turned the pages, almost dreading the one stained with my blood. But it came faster then I hoped. I had my eyes closed as I turned to it. Not sure if I wanted to open them or not. Would it hurt…hinder…or make me feel more stupid then I already was? But I finally did. Two expressive eyes coyly glanced up from the pages, almost completely covered by a line of wild fringe. The long braid so much like my own was hanging over one shoulder, more lustrous looking then ever before. The one thing strange was the clothing…strange because it was me wearing it.

"It can't be." My breathing was loud echoing about the now cold and silent room. I felt claustrophobic in that moment. I needed to get out of that room. I needed to get away. Away from the book, away from the feeling of eyes on me…and just away. This wasn't what I was here for. I was here for a family I never knew, yet somehow I became ensnared in something beyond my realm of understanding.

I dropped the book and stood from the bed, a fog descending over my senses once more. I didn't know what to feel. I should have felt creeped out…or stupid… I've never thought of myself as crazy but in that moment I knew I had to be. I left the room then, not giving it a second thought. I ran down the dark empty hallways, exiting the violet wing as if I were being chased. My feet knew where to go, so I let them take over while my brain screamed at me that it was just a hallucination. It wasn't real.

My hand reached up on its accord and touched the necklace whipping about my neck. It felt like I was holding an ice cube. My hands started to burn but I held onto it none the less. I still, to this day, cannot remember much of what transpired then. I think over it sometimes…cutting away the cobwebs one by one only to find a new obstacle in my way. I only know that I was in a hall way one moment and then I was standing still in a room I knew I had no right to be in.

It was freezing. If I could have seen anything I knew it would have been my breathe coming out like clouds as I stood panting. The room was empty, I don't know why I knew but it just felt empty, the floor soft and supple underneath my bare feet and everything else as dark as a stormy night. I won't admit to many people but I was scared. I didn't know where I was, I didn't know how I got there. All I knew was that it felt cold, uninhabitable and frightful.

It was as if I could feel these things…as if they were real and had mass. Like I could reach out and touch…something. But there was nothing here except me. I took a few small steps forward hitting a wall. But after a minute inspection I found it was in fact a door. Blindly I traced the curving designs to where I knew there'd be a handle. My hand was trembling as I reached for it; the only noise I could hear then was the rattling of the old door handle now under my hand. I tried turning it and somehow I wasn't surprised to find it unlocked.

The massive door swung open, its screech freezing me in my tracks. There was a light lit. One solitary candle situated on a table in what appeared to be the center of the room. Its bright flame, felt like salvation, so I walked towards it. The proverbial moth to the flame…I guess. The nearer I was to that small innocent flame the warmer I felt. The more I stared into its oddly blue base, the more I felt the world around me disintegrate. And the more I walked the more out of body I became. My skin no longer was real, my bones no longer real and my blood…no longer real… I was a stranger in this world…a world I didn't know existed. I didn't belong, that's what the candle told me…I didn't belong anywhere. My existence was created out of nothing. Therefore, I was nothing. A figment.

I guess, the voice was right. I am nothing; I always knew that and never denied it. If I was more then nothing I wouldn't be invisible to the world would I? Someone would have seen me. I thought I had found that in Quatre, but who was I kidding. I'd never see him again. He'd go on, as rich and happy as before, and where would I be…nowhere…doing nothing because I didn't exist. I was a wisp of air, blown across the world. Easily lost and easily forgotten.

My eyelids flickered down, blocking the now brilliantly blue flame from my vision. A hand or what I thought was my hand touched the pendant around my neck, pulling on it…and that was all I remember.


	10. Apprentice Varalet

**Sacrificed During a Violet Moon**

**Rating:** AU, Yaoi, in the beginning it is rated pg13, rated R later, servitude, seducing of the obscured devil and a sacrifice for power. So if you don't agree with these terms then I don't know why the hell you're here. Ok have fun.

**Warning:** If you don't know by now listen carefully: Men with Men…having sex or liking/loving the same sex!

**Disclaimer:** I don't own any of the character's or their personality's (all though I could play a good Duo) any way, you've heard it all so I'll just fast forward. Bla…bla…bla, bla, bla, blabber, blue…beluga. Ok you all get it. NO suing, have no money, saving every penny for the anime convention and birthday's. Not worth your time.

Chap 10: Apprentice Varelet

My head hurt, my ears were ringing and a burning throb was running rampant through my bones. Yes, I was still capable of whining…I think. It felt as if I had been run over by a large…something…the sun maybe? Someone help, I wished quietly not sure if I had spoken out loud or not.

Groaning, I pushed up on my arms, regretting the decision as bile rose to the back of my throat, sour and unpleasant. Then a pair of hard hands gripped me, and slowly turned me over. I blinked my eyes slowly against the bright sun above me but then something blocked my annoyance and I sighed happily.

"No, keep your eyes open." The command was harsh, and the voice was faint and wispy. That of a person who was deep in their age and their liquor. "I said keep 'em open boy." Groaning I did as asked, not sure who it was above me…or anything else for that matter. "I guess we can profit from this. Your clumsiness has finally paid off. Now stay put 'n keep your eyes open. I don't want you going to sleep."

I did as the voice asked, although it was difficult to do so. Every time I blinked away tears that the bright sun above me was creating in my eyes I let them stay closed a little longer each time before I remembered the terse voices warning. Something in my head told me that if I had a concussion it would be in my best interest to stay awake. What a concussion was I didn't know but I followed the thought none the less.

"Father, what have you done?" A girl's voice shrieked, ringing sorely in my ears. Hands were then touching my face, softer and without many calluses then the others had. "Are you alright?

"I don't know." I whispered, yelping as the girl hauled me into a sitting position. The world flipped on me, and I knew I was going to be violently ill. "Don't do that…" I turned away from her and heaved my stomach contents. Afterwards, I could still feel the girl behind me, rubbing a hand over my back and holding my hair out of the way…a little too harshly if you asked me.

"I'm sorry, it's ok. Bring me some water Fabian!" The girl yelled. Fabian, what kind of name is that? Then I heard the other arguing in the background.

"What do you mean I have to pay? Your boy was in the way. It was his own fault!" The voice was male and angry, nothing at all someone I'd want to stand up against.

"I don't care what you think. Do you know who I am…? If you did you wouldn't fight 'de inevitable. You hit my apprentice you crazy idiot of a man. If you don't pay I'll take this matter to 'de king and who do you think he'll believe? You a simple farming idiot or I Señore John Deŕorock."

"Señore John Deŕorock? 'De Señore John Deŕorock 'de painter?" The voice was much quieter then before now. "Why, of course I'll pay Señore. I don't have much but I can give you what I have 'ear. It's about a pound sir."

"Fine, that will have to do I guess. You will supply bandages and water for my apprentice. We have none with us." With that the conversation ended and a pair of heavy footsteps neared. "Get off 'de ground boy. Ya'll be fine after your bandaged."

"Leave 'm alone. 'E is in no state to just get up and walk around ya fool. I don't care if your some great painter or not. This boy will stay right where 'e is until I've seen that 'e is in no way harmed permanently."

Finally, my eyes seemed back to normal and what greeted my bleary sight was a pile of what appeared to be slimy and bubbly pieces of food. Groaning I turned away from the vile smell and sight right into a glass of water. "Drink slowly." I wanted to disagree but kept silent as I drank the cool water, washing away the horrid taste. "Na na, no more now. Ye'll get sick again."

"I don't care." I mumbled, looking up into the girls face. She looked familiar. Like I had seen her before. Her short black hair was cut boyishly and her simple face had a small grin.

"What's yer name?" She asked. I opened my mouth but stopped. I didn't know. Nothing came to mind. Not one name.

"I can't remember?" I said, looking over at the other person now kneeling beside me. He was old, wrinkled and not at all friendly looking. In his wrinkled hand he held a small bag, which jingled when he placed it in his shirt.

"What do you mean boy? You know your name."

"No, I don't…I don't know you either. So if you could please tell me I'd appreciate it." The old man blinked, rocking back on his heels slightly.

"I think your old man should pay twice as more girly…" the girl next to me glanced over, glaring at the old man whose eyes were closed in thought. "Your idiot father not only hit my apprentice with that godforsaken cart but hit him so hard his brains turned to mush! What good is an idiot apprentice to me? And what is with the way you talk? Strange happenings today…strange luck we've run into, that's what I think," he mused, hand running through his straggly beard.

"I'm not an idiot." No one calls me an idiot. I can decide that fact for myself. "And another thing. I think 'you' should apologize to this girl for your own foolishness. Ya greedy bastard." I don't know what came over me then. I was in a severe amount of pain (so that probably had something to do with it) in a place I had no clue about, a memory completely wiped out and strange people talking funny. Their dialect was old, almost lazy as they conversed around me. "Does anyone have aspirin?"

"If you talk back to me in that way boy…maybe your not completely gone then…hm…I was hoping to get more for it. Oh well. Get your self up. We're already late for our appointment." He stood up, brushing off his trousers with a spindly hand. "And what is ass…prin?"

The girl helped me up, but I knocked her hands away. I didn't like feeling like an invalid. "You know…um…I don't exactly know? Wait…I still don't know what's going on. Who the hell are you people?"

It was the girl who answered me then, even though I was looking at the old man. He even seemed enraged that he was interrupted. "Now, let me explain. My father…a fool, I agree…but my father none the less, let the cart get away from him. That's all. You stopped in the road and picked something up, that's when it hit ya. It was not intentional the way your master thinks it is."

"Oh, and if your father had not let that monstrosity of a moldy cart get away from him in the first place we wouldn't be arguing with an idiot child! Now get up boy!" he walked away, towards what appeared to be a set of horses. One a muddy brown and the other a deep gray.

"Fine, let the old coot have his way. Up ya get." She grabbed my arms again and as gently as possible pulled me up, ignoring my protests. Then, guiding me along by the hand, she took me over to where her father was and sat me down on a stump. "Stay there for one second while I get some bandages. You got a couple nasty scrapes, and I'm sure ye'll bruise, but then you can tell the ladies at court you got them fighting a bear in the wilds. That would sure get my attention." She winked and walked to a cart, whose wheels were strewn all along the gravel path.

Left alone, my eyes wandered. I was on dirt strewn path, littered here and there with pebbles and weeds. Fields of something wispy and yellow surrounded us. A few trees dotted the area in all directions and a forest was further in the distance surrounding us and the field in one large circle. And just barely in the distance, I could see a rather large stone manor, situated high up on a hill surrounded by those same trees. "Where am I?"

"You're near Telford. And that in the distance is Lowe Manor. They call it a manor but it's really a castle, or is the other way around? The name is supposed to make us believe they're the same as us. But we're not stupid…just poor." She paused, looking towards the manor with an unusual look upon her dirt smudged face. "Not that saying Manor is a much better word for it." The girl, juggling a role of cloth and small bucket of water, got to work, unrolling the length of gauze and taking a dingy white cloth from the bucket. "Its not hot water but it will have to do."

A few minutes later I was glad the torture session was done with. The girls gentle demeanor was nothing compared to her touch…it was brutal. I found out that not only was there a fairly large gash on my forehead but multiple cuts and scrapes from the loose pebbles and rocks buried in the ground as well as one monster of a bruise on my ribs. I felt like I had been run over…and lucky me I didn't have to ask for the license plate number because said vehicle was currently overturned onto the side of the road.

I paused, looking down to the ground as if asking the tiny bits of dirt and sand what a 'license plate number' was. But it didn't know. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah, yeah I'm fine." I stood shakily, hand automatically going to my forehead. "My ribs really hurt."

"Yeah, I know, I don't think they're broken but you may want to talk to the doctor at the manor. They can help you more then I can with internal injuries. Ya know, you talk funny. Are ya from around here?"

"I…don't know."

"Boy, get a move on it! Your dilly dallying will be subtracted from your pay!" The old man was situated on top of the muddy brown horse, its head tossing back and forth in irritation. I guess he wasn't very happy with his rider either, or they were made for each other. You know what they say about dogs and their masters?

"Why does he keep calling me that? Is boy my name?"

"I don't think so…" she shrugged and bid me farewell. "And if you're ever in the area again, ya come to Telford square and ask for Hilda Peppercorn. I'm sure someone will be able to give ya some directions back to me."

Let's just say that after that moment my time spent with the old man and the two horses went by rather slowly and painfully. The entire way I let him ramble on about how much money I had cost him…forgetting that he practically swindled more then enough from those innocent people. I also had time to learn his name properly, Señore John Deŕorock or master to me. Strange name I think. Anyway, he was a master painter sought after by all that knew his work or those who boasted of it. But the one thing I found the most fascinating was my name. Or what the Señore finally called me besides boy. Varelet…

It sounded familiar…almost comforting. I knew then that it had to be my name. If it wasn't I know I would feel uncomfortable using it. But I could gladly call myself Varelet. And I was his apprentice…I'd been with him since I had been a small child, learning his ways and creating my own. The Señore even grudgingly admitted I was his best find. I felt pride in his words. So I had accomplished something, I thought. So I was something more then…then what? Again the holes in my memory resurfaced and quieted my self gratitude. How could I not know who I was? How could I have such a hole inside of me? It wasn't fair that I knew some things while not knowing others. I was in a strange world…with a strange name and a strange man. I knew not whether anything was true or false. If I was playing a fabricated lie…or if this was real and I was the lie.

I questioned the Señore but all he could do was laugh. He said my memory would return in time but that if it had hindered my painting I would pay dearly. He seemed harsh, my master, but there was something in his eyes when he looked over at me when I asked my name. Guilt maybe…or grief? It was hard to tell, he didn't show them too willingly.

The land passed by us in a distorted haziness. Fields of wheat yellow grass swayed in the light breeze coming from the west and the deep green forest, which smelled of pine and the strong sultry scent of age, reflected only the sweet chirps of birds and the scuttling of animals. Everything about this place seemed innocent and untainted. But my mind kept telling me that it was wrong. My perception of the truth was wrong. It wasn't untainted. It was dirty and used. The sound of a whistle, long and loud, echoed through my head like a long lost memory, piercing the veil of this false realm. A boy, who looked so much like me was stepping onto a platform, wincing as the monstrosity behind him whistled again. His thoughts were…familiar. The boy who looked like me…was home…

After what seemed like days we arrived in the busy town of Telford. The sun was beating warmly, bathing the cobbled streets in a heavenly yellow and a harsh white. Elderly mothers were huddled by the fountain drawing water and gossiping over this and that, while watching a group of small children playing nearby. The men both young and old could be seen working in the many small shops surrounding us as we rode through the town. Many of the young girls sauntered from the clothing stores, boasting over their new hats or their new gowns like chattering hens. All stopping momentarily as we passed.

It was weird this feeling. One girl, not much older then 16, wore a butter cream dress, frills and lace in abundance and on top of her head was a pile of dark black curls. I knew she was pretty and I responded to her and her friends flattering looks towards me but I didn't think much of it. As if my body didn't care for them. Strange as it may sound…I didn't think this odd at all…actually it felt more normal then anything. But I was too embarrassed to ask the Señore about it. I don't think I would have appreciated being laughed at over such a trivial matter of my body not liking young virile women.

Yet what really confused me was the fact that not only was I gathering the attention of many young females but many men as well. I silently cringed at the lingering stares from the stables near an Apple Bushel Inn. I was quite sure that they had more then romantic liaisons dancing about their brains especially the way they grinned at me as I stared too long in return.

"Now boy, I know your memory is…absent but incase you can't remember in court you keep your silence and let me speak. You'll be in the presence of the king and possibly even the prince. I'm to paint their portrait and you'll watch and learn. Fix minor problems after I'm done, not that there'll be many, and that's all. I know you probably don't remember our long chat the day before but I'm warnen you. If you step out of line in this I'll whip you within an inch of ye'r life. This will make my career for sure. Make a nice cozy place in court for me. And you of course if you follow my instruction. Do you follow?"

"Yes…" I murmured more intent on my surroundings then anything he had to say. I couldn't believe I'd stayed with this snake of man so long. Wasn't there something in my life more then a cranky old man who prized money and power over happiness? I guess not. Looking down for the first time I ran a hand over my clothing. It was cheap and simple, but relatively clean. A faded black shirt under another faded black tunic was sliming but roomy enough to be comfortable. The pants were an entirely different story. There was the formation of a hole on the left knee where dirt and stained blood discolored the starchy dark gray fabric. A white bandage peaked through, like a beacon against the dark colors. Then the boots, which were the cleanest and probably the newest additions to the wardrobe, for their soles had yet to be tarnished, and their black color still shone in the afternoon rays.

All in all I liked what I saw and didn't think I was treated badly by my…master. Now that seemed peculiar, like I never really thought much of the word. Hell maybe I hated it. I just couldn't remember…

The only piece of jewelry on me was a necklace, whose presence I only knew of because of the cold weight upon my chest. When I had taken it out the old man had thrown a fit. Telling me to put it away. I didn't ask why, his temper scared that adventuresome task from me. But it felt…strange…other worldly. It didn't belong here in this world.

"Are we almost there yet?" I reached back and pushed the long braid away from my neck, rubbing away the sweat that had developed. But I paused, stopping the horse with a quick pull on the reigns. What had I just said? Had I said that before? Haven't I been here before? Too many what ifs and questions without answers came to mind but I knew not what to make of them. Of course I hadn't been to the Lowe Manor before…right? The Señore would have told me right?

"What are you doing now boy? Of course we are almost there. And when we get there tell the stable boy to leave the horses as they are. We'll retrieve our things after our audience with the king." A few minutes later and I saw that he was in fact right. Two frighteningly large gates were open with two guards standing like sentinels in the two adjacent gatehouses. Both stepped out at the same time, holding their lances tipped together to prevent our entry.

"What is your business here at Lowe Manor?"

"I am Señore John Deŕorock. Master painter here to create a portrait for his majesty." I kept quiet, not sure if I was allowed to speak, but the look the Señore gave me quickly told me my place.

"And this is…?" The other guard motioned to me, forehead wrinkled and eyes heavy with something unknown. Curiosity maybe…?

"My apprentice Varelet. Is there a problem?"

"No sir. We were just not told you'd be arriving with an apprentice. You may go through. The king is awaiting you." The Señore went through the gates first, tipping his pointed hat before trotting over to the stables. I followed close behind, fingering my head bandage, eyes burning holes into the scenery around me. It was like seeing for the first time. This must have been what it was like for babies first opening their eyes to the new world. The manor was just like Hilda had said…it was not a manor, but it was…it was a castle, but then maybe not.

Weathered stones were inlaid upon each turret and tier and there were millions of them, so many I didn't dare count. A few scattered windows whose glass was made of many different colors and the name was just on the tip of my tongue…Mosaic. They were mosaic windowpanes handcrafted delicately with precious gold metal segmenting each colorful design. Then the centerpiece…the one thing that seemed almost out of place…was the gold clock set at the highest tower. Its numerals glinting in the sun. It was an engineering marvel. A clock…that was the word that matched to the picture. So I wasn't entirely lost. Maybe my memory would come back faster then I thought.

"Boy stop gawking. You act is if you haven't seen a clock before. They are quite marvelous but time consuming. Now give the horses over to the stables, we're already late." I delicately brought my leg over the other side of the horse's massive flanks, gingerly stepping down to the ground. Once that task was done I turned around and found a small boy, grubby and shoeless waiting in the shadow of a dirty stable. The stench of manure and sweat wafted from the building in waves. Almost visible in the mid afternoon heat.

"Hi…are you the one I give the horses too?" He nodded, rushing over and taking the reins quickly. Before he could get more then a few feet I yelled for him to just leave them be for them to take care of later. Comprehension didn't seem to dawn on him. He stood there, eyes wide and confused. "We'll come back out and take care of them. So could you just watch them for a moment? Get them some water?" He blinked and nodded, motioning at another shadow in the depths of the stable. Another boy came out, taller and slimmer carrying a tin of water, which he held out for each horse to drink.

Smiling I turned around heading for where I had seen my master last. He was standing next to two large doors closed and barred once more by two soldiers. "What do you mean I'm not allowed entry? I was requested here personally by his majesty. I am Señore John Deŕorock…"

"Yes we know who you are Señore Deŕorock but his majesty had sent a courier to you with a seal. If you show us that seal then you are permitted entry. We are in hard times…the seal is for the safety of his majesty and the royal family."

"Yes…ah, I believe we do have the seal. Varelet?" He turned to me, eyes patiently waiting. Now, I had this feeling that I was a fool more then once a day. That I easily made mistakes and wasn't…how shell you say, balanced mentally as well as physically. Klutz came to mind. Whatever that meant but the fact that I had no clue as to what he wanted only made that fact even harder to bear. I could just picture it. Idiot apprentice standing there with his head cocked and clueless.

The Señore also seemed to realize this, for his face took on a heated shade of red, eyes watering in frustration but he calmed enough to appear civilized. Smiling patiently back at the guards. "Boy, go and get ye'r satchel and the seal should be inside." Nodding I walked back to the horses. Okay…now what was a satchel…? The two boys were still looking after the horses, both smiling and petting them down. They paused, fear flashing in their eyes as I came up behind them but I smiled and went to my horse looking through my many belongings until I came across a brown soft bulge. I grabbed the strap hanging from it and went back. My legs were already starting to hurt and my head was about ready to explode from the heat. I was going to heave again. And doing it would warrant a fierce chastising from my master…'that' I knew for sure. This Majesty we were here for was someone I'm sure would not like to see such an act performed in his presence.

"Um, this is a…satchel?" I whispered as I came back, glaring when I heard the faint snickers coming from the guards. But when I looked at them they were still staring straight ahead, faces blank.

"Yes…it is. Find the seal." He spoke to me slowly, no longer angry. I don't know if it was because I no longer knew what a satchel was, which could come off as pathetic or because he was too tired to get anymore angrier then he already was. Rummaging inside I found a few packets of something sweet and sour smelling, a small wooden box, a slim candle, a bag, a hand bound book and a trove of papers. Some were simple sketches, which I briefly admired and then there was the peach parchment with a red wax seal broken on the back. "This it?" I gave it to him and he sighed. Turning around to the guards he presented it, back straight and a winning smile fixated on his face.

"This is it. His majesty is awaiting you in the main chamber." They opened the door and omitted us through. As the heavy cherry colored doors were closing I swore I heard one of the guards saying, "Cute boy…" I swore I did…I wasn't imagining things. I'd give them grief about it later. Maybe step on their feet discreetly.

Then, a stuffy man guided us down the many winding and twisting hallways, stairs, and such. The halls were dark and sinister, cool air wafting from the shadowy corners, cooling the sweat caused by the insufferable heat wafting from the immense glass windows. All the way I knew my mouth had to have been obscenely opened in awe at the rich cloth hangings on the walls, which I didn't have time to stop and look at properly and suits of armor that stood like sentinels by every door we passed. High arched gothic ceilings, which glittered gold in to many places for my comfort.

I know I was lost by the time we arrived at another pair of heavy opposing doors. The Señore sighed, straightening his collar and pushing back his wavy thinning locks. He then turned to me and paused. "Boy…unravel that dirty bandage and wipe your forehead clean. I'd rather not have to explain why you're bleeding all over the royal chambers." His voice was gruff and short, allowing no room to disobey, but disobey I did.

"You know you're not being very nice. Somehow, through all of this, I've come to the realization that I don't normally take your crap without putting you in your place old man." It was a risky move; one I knew would either end in respect or a severe beating.

Instead, all he did was turn back around, a hint of a small smile on his lips.

I quickly un-wrapped the bandage anyway and wiped what I could of the blood dripping down the side of my face. It was quite unnerving feeling that warm wet sluggish feeling but if I was not allowed a bandage I would have to hide the still open wound with my bangs the best I could. Our guide told us to wait a second while he announced us and we watched as he struggled to open one of the massive double doors, before quickly stepping in. I heard his voice say my masters name and then he appeared again telling us we were permitted entry.

It was grand, this room. A room meant to inspire respect and admiration just as much as trepidation. But the man and the woman seated up on the dais were something else all together. The woman was…not plain by any means of the word but she wasn't extraordinarily beautiful like the girl in the cream dress that we had passed in town. She was more elegant and refined…she gave the essence of being very…soft and distant. Her lemony colored hair was done up in an overly extensive style atop her head, decorated with gems and flowers, while her clothing was much simpler but still extravagant. The cloth was a rich silk, gleaming a pale violet color in the speckles of sun emanating from the windows.

But the man sitting next to her was stern, eyes hard and impatient. He wore more jewelry then his wife if that were possible and his clothing was bright…like a peacock. A brilliant peacock striving for attention. His hair was dark and wild and it appeared that he was growing quite the beard. I put him in the same category as my master. Severely unattractive.

"So this is the great master painter Señore John Deŕorock. I expected you sooner. You do realize that I am a busy man." His voice was deep and akin to the sound of grunting. My master quickly bowed and with a sharp tug on my pants I did the same, even though the quick motion caused me to almost up heave again. Now that would have been a pretty picture. I'm sure these two most important people had never seen someone throw up in their presence before.

"I am most profoundly sorry for the delay. We ran into a small sort of trouble, but we are here now and ready to get to work. I wouldn't want to take up your time any more then I have to." My master's voice was soft and yielding. So unlike his harsh timber with me. He stood then, struggling to his feet. He was old; I didn't expect him to shoot up like a weed. I, on the other hand, was also struggling but for an obviously different reason. My head felt like it was going to explode.

"Well, tomorrow is a better day for you to get started. So you will be shown your rooms and prepare for the arrangements. I want this painting done within the month… My god man, what is wrong with your apprentice?" My master turned to me, eyes wide. The woman on the dais stood up and waved for someone along the side of my vision. I reached up sluggishly and felt my cheek. Blood came away on my hand and I stared at it in a sick sort of fascination.

"Oh, no need to worry." He moved in front of me, blocking my grotesque appearance from the two stately figures who seemed horrified by the small rivulet of blood running from my forehead. "My idiot apprentice got into some trouble…it was why we were so late your highness. But all he needs is a little patching up and rest and he'll be right as rain. Won't you lad?" His voice had become sterner as he ended his sentence. Cold eyes telling me to suck it up and agree. I nodded my head and brought my hand down.

"At least let our doctor take a look. You should have said that he would need medical attention. That wound looks something fierce." The woman kindly smiled in my direction…I knew she would be kind.

"Of course. If you insist. Your kindness is most appreciated." My master bowed to the lady, turning to me to do the same. These strange customs seemed foreign to me. I had a feeling I didn't do them often if at all.

So I was taken from the room and brought to what appeared to be a small office. An aged man with long dirt gray hair poked and prodded me, asking for all the details about my injury. He said my lack of memory was not a problem at all and that it would most likely return when it wanted to. So he force fed me a vile concoction, rebandaged my head and told me no more horse riding for a week or more until I was better. Also, I was only allowed to eat a hearty stew that night. All of which I couldn't complain about.

After my visit with the doctor, my master informed me we were to gather our belongings and make our way to the quarters provided for us. Outside we found our horses and one of the boys I had left them with. He was smiling warily at me, offering the reins. I smiled back. He was sweet.

"Boy, get the easel out, it's the wooden pointy thing in your side bag and also get my paints, there're in the other side. If you drop either I will have you hanged by your toenails. Then once you drop those off in our rooms come and get the rest of our things. This…child will watch the horses for a little while longer." I knew my eyes were wide enough to make me look stupider then the child still standing awkwardly by our horses. For one, the words, easel and paints seemed so familiar to me. Like I had known those particular words all my life. I could even smell them. An unmistakable scent of potent…chemicals. That didn't sound right.

"Um…could I ask you something?" I placed my hand on the horse's mane, unsure how to phrase what I wanted to say.

"What is it now?" He hadn't yet looked up from his search in his own bags, looking for god knows what, so I sighed and did the same.

I pulled out what appeared to be the wooden pointy thing he had been talking about before looking back over. He still hadn't emerged from his bag, muttering about how much money and fame he would receive. "Well, I want to know…exactly…who I am. Not just my name or little stories. What's my favorite color and my favorite season? Who were my parents…do I have any one close to me? How old am I? Have I always worked for you? You're not my father right?" Finally he stopped his search, eyebrows puckered, creating a huge crater between them.

"Boy…" there was another pause, silence only broken by the sound of soldiers traveling to and from the barracks and peasants going about their chores. "No I'm not your father, thank the heavens, and no you don't have a family or anyone else for that matter. You were just some orphan who had a good eye at a young age. I paid a steal for you and your education boy." He paused, clearly thinking over his answers. "I suppose you like black and fall. Now this is not the place for this conversation. We will talk more about…your condition when we get settled. My only hope is that you remember how to paint or else you're useless to me as an apprentice." He was harsh then, glaring down at me before pointedly heading back inside. "We will be rooming in the violet wing. Ask a maid when you need to find it."

I was alone in the world. I had no family at all…just some old coot who was confused about his own feelings or lack there of.

Sighing heavily, I turned back to the horse, petting its coarse mane. "Do you know who I am?" I whispered into its ear. In answer the horse whickered, tail flicking side to side. "Of course you don't…no one does…" Finishing what my master asked me to do; I grabbed what little I could and asked the boy to watch the horses for just a little while longer. In return he smiled. I could tell he was warming up to me…a little less scared then the first moment we met. "Thank you for bearing with me" I told him and trudged back through the doors, in search of a maid, all the while twitching at the feel of eyes following me.

A/N: Next chapter the long awaited meeting. YEAH! I am so sorry about how tardy I am with this chapter. School was rough… not that that's a great excuse but it's the only one in my arsenal at the moment. Hopefully my other stories will be updated shortly as well.


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